


CoSL17: Dearly De-Powered

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [17]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Wedding, episode rewrite, ongoing series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 18:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20916377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Part 17 of the Casebook of Sloane Larson!It's time for Monroe and Rosalee's wedding! And all the stuff that entails--hexenbeasts stealing powers and all! But with Sloane in the mix now, how will things change? For better? Or worse?





	CoSL17: Dearly De-Powered

**Blond Ambition, Thanks for the Memories, Octopus Head**

**\---------------------**

Sloane didn’t have a lot of experience with weddings. There was one she dressed up as a waiter in order to get information on a wesen killing women (and eating them) and another she crashed to try and kill the bride (saved the groom’s life, she was a literal black widow). But this was the first she was invited too, the first she was Maid of Honor for, and first she wanted to go _right._

The rehearsal went well thankfully. Rosalee’s mother and sister were in on the Grimm deal and despite some reservations, they warmed up to them the same way they warmed up to Monroe. Monroe’s parents were also considerably more open and friendly. Corresponding with Rosalee regularly helped endear them to her and by extension Sloane and Nick. Bud also gave them a glowing review no one asked for but was none the less sweet.

Afterwards they went to dinner at the same lodge, sitting around a round table—Bart, Alice, Monroe, Rosalee, Sloane, Nick, Juliette, Hank, Bud, Gloria, and DeEtta, in that order

“So, these drops,” Bart asked across the table, “they’ll really make it so you don’t see us woge?”

“Yeah. It’s only enough for the ceremony and reception though,” Sloane said. “And we better keep it that way because prolonged use is dangerous.”

“That you’d do that for Monroe and Rosalee is very…touching,” Alice said honestly. Nick and Sloane smiled back.

“They’ve done so much for us, this isn’t really much,” Nick said.

“Really, we wouldn’t miss this for the world. Buuuut we want to be sure not to start drama,” Sloane agreed.

“And we appreciate that,” Rosalee’s mother, Gloria said.

“Yeah, we caused enough of that,” DeEtta sighed.

“Oh, not as much as us,” Alice said ruefully. “But, let’s not make it a competition.”

“No, but I should go ahead and do this,” Bart sighed, standing and tapping his glass. “Well, as you may know, when we first met Rosalee, we had some issues, and I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly apologize to Rosalee and my son, who, I must admit, made us see things in ways I didn't think possible.” Monroe smiled up at him gratefully. “Which leads me to extend an apology to Nick and Sloane, both Grimms, who taught me that this world does move in…mysterious ways.” They all laughed at the smiling, exasperated tone. “And finally, I want to thank my wife, Alice, who refused to leave when I really wanted to and made me face my own bullheadedness. Without her courage and love, I would've totally screwed up everything.” They laughed, but Alice smiled with a little misty-eyed smile and took Bart’s hand. He smiled back and squeezed it. “I just want to wish Rosalee and Monroe a long, happy, and mysterious life together.”

“Here here,” they all said, toasting their glasses.

Alice smiled more as he took a seat again. “Oh, did you really just say that?”

He smiled back warmly. “I said it, and I meant it.” He kissed her and the others all smiled.

Juliette stood then. “I would like to just briefly say on behalf of Hank and myself, the resident kehrseite-schlich-kennen...” They all smiled in admiration, laughing a bit.

“You’ve been practicing,” Sloane said.

“I try, thank you,” she laughed. “But as I was saying, it has been a wonderful and strange experience getting to know Monroe and Rosalee and all of you.”

“I'll drink to that,” DeEtta said, moving to take her wine.

“Not quite finished,” Rosalee said delicately, DeEtta pouting. “So, congratulations to Rosalee and Monroe. You absolutely belong together, and here's to a fantastic wedding tomorrow.”

They cheered again and toasted, sipping their wine. The finished-up dinner and split up outside to head their different ways, though Sloane was carpooling with Nick and Juliette.

“Sooo…got your Maid of Honor speech ready?” Nick asked, glancing in the mirror to Sloane.

“Yeah…I think so…God, why am I nervous about this?” Sloane sighed.

“I mean, have you really done anything like this before?” Juliette asked.

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Public speaking can make most people nervous,” she said. “Just imagine them in their underwear?”

“…Does that work or just make things more awkward?” she asked, laughing a little.

“Eh, little of both,” Nick said. “Remember, I’ll be going before you—I’m sure whatever you say, you’ll sound like Jane Austin in comparison.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Juliette said. “I heard you practicing, it’s going to be very touching.”

Nick smiled. “Thanks.”

Sloane felt a twinge in her chest and ignored it, looking out the window.

When they got to her house, Nick rolled down his window as she was getting out. “Still good to pick you up at 4 tomorrow?”

“Yep,” she smiled. “Not having to drive is just another perk of the…Do you smell smoke?”

Nick frowned and breathed deeply before looking at Sloane’s house. Sloane rushed quickly up the steps and unlocked the door. There was smoke wafting through the air and a smoke alarm beeping shrilly. “Trubel?!”

“In here!” Trubel yelled. Sloane went to the kitchen and her jaw fell when she saw Trubel was trying to stop a fire in the pan by beating it with a spatula. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Get the window and the door!” Sloane said, rushing over and grabbing the lid. She slid it over the pan to smother the fire, turning off the burner while Nick and Juliette came in to help try and air out the house. Trubel was coughing as she opened the back door near the kitchen.

“What happened?” Nick asked, grabbing a towel to try and fan the smoke out.

“I was trying to cook!” Trubel said.

“Cook what, charcoal?” Sloane asked, taking the lid off and fanning it.

“No…Pancakes. I was going to try and make you breakfast tomorrow, pancakes and bacon and eggs…my bacon isn’t that great either…”

Sloane softened a bit and smiled. “Well…I appreciate that, thank you.”

“Bacon? But you’re Jewish?” Nick asked.

“I’m not that strict with that and neither was Oma,” Sloane said. “Exceptions are made, especially for bacon.”

“I would too. I might have an addiction considering I’m still eying this,” Juliette said, holding up a plate of super crispy bacon. They laughed, sighing as the smoke alarm finally stopped.

“How about we try this again in the morning? I still remember how to make pancakes,” Sloane said.

“Sure,” Trubel said, nodding with a sheepish but grateful smile. She was covered with powder and wet batter, smelled like grease and had an eggshell in her hair that Sloane pulled out.

"Go clean up and change, I'll get this."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure you need to clean up and change," she chuckled.

"Okay...I'll see you guys later," Trubel said, nodding to Nick and Juliette before heading to the guest room--now furnished. They'd gone to some second hand shops and gotten a bed frame, side table, dresser and more to furnish it. It needed a little bit of work, but it gave Trubel something to do during the day besides study and youtube was pretty good for videos on how to refinish furniture. It was all wood and now a nice walnut color. The rest was still pretty sparse but with a brand new queen mattress, sheets and a purple and grey comforter set, Trubel had to admit she was sleeping a lot better than on the day bed in the office.

Juliette and Nick smiled. “You good here?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, we’re good. Get home, we got a long day tomorrow.”

“Yeah…Oh, hey, if I pick you two up in the morning, I could use your help,” Nick said quickly.

“With what?”

“Moving the Trailer. I got a spot in mind.”

“Uh…. Okay, so long as we’re still there by 4 because the hairdresser and everything will be at the lodge waiting for us.” She looked at Juliette who nodded.

“Right, that should be plenty of time,” he said. They waved as they headed out. Juliette smiled as they drove back for home. “You know, they get along pretty well.”

Nick smiled as well. “Yeah. I think they’re good for each other. Like a big sister.”

“Yeah. I wish I had one of those…”

“Me too…Being an only child got lonely sometimes,” Nick sighed.

“Yeah…on the bright side, I got spoiled rotten, especially by my grandmother,” she said slyly.

Nick laughed. “Here I thought you were probably a little angel, helping any animals you could.”

“Oh, I did that, but they were usually strays and she only made me find new homes for them when things got out of hand.”

“What’s out of hand?”

“Ummm…12 cats and 4 dogs?”

“Oh, you’re a hoarder,” he said, laughing more.

“Was not…” she said, though she was smiling as well.

Nick smiled warmly as they headed back home. Just after getting there, the phone rang, and Juliette sighed and went over to pick it up while Nick went to the kitchen to get something to drink. “Hello?”

“Juliette! I’m glad I finally caught you.”

“Adalind?” she asked in surprise. “I…we just got home, what…?”

“I'm so sorry to bother you, but I thought I should warn you,” Adalind said, and she sounded strangely happy for a warning. “Something happened tonight that I just can't quite explain.”

“Okay…Why are you calling me?” Juliette asked uncertainly.

“Because it's about you.”

“Me? How is it about me?”

“I was with Sean tonight, and he said some things that just weren't right. I hope I'm wrong, but I think his obsession for you may have returned, and I feel responsible. You haven't had any feelings for him, have you?” she asked coyly.

“No. God, no,” Juliette said, shaking her head.

“Good. I might be totally wrong about this, but just in case, I'm gonna mix up a little something to counteract it.”

“No, Adalind. No mixing of anything,” she said firmly. “No potions, please.”

“I understand your concern,” she sighed. “I just thought I should say something. Anyway, you have a good night.” She hanged up and Juliette stared at the phone in confusion.

Nick came out with a beer, looking at her curiously. “Who was that?

“Adalind…”

Nick was on alert immediately. “Adalind? What did she want?”

“She said that she thinks Sean's obsession with me is coming back, and she wanted to warn me,” she huffed, putting the phone back in the cradle.

Nick frowned more, a little worried. “Well, are you feeling anything?”

“Yeah. Pissed off at the whole idea,” she said heatedly, going to get some water.

Nick sighed slightly, a tiny bit relieved, and turned back to her. “Well, she's probably wrong, and I wouldn't trust her anyway.”

She nodded, sipping her water and shaking herself a little to try and calm down. “All I'm saying is, this better not be happening again.”

He agreed, a little on edge now as well.

\-----------------

Nick took his SUV to pick up Sloane and Trubel and then go hitch the Trailer. Sloane road shotgun with Nick while Trubel was in the back as they drove out of the storage lot. “Why do we have to move it now?” Trubel asked.

“Too many people seem to know where it is, and we got this new stuff,” Nick said. “It seems like a good time to find it a new home. I bought a piece of land. It's gonna be a lot harder for people to figure out where it is.” He glanced at Sloane, who smiled and nodded approvingly.

“How many times have you had to move it?”

He glanced at Trubel in the mirror. “This is the second time for me, but this came all the way from New York with my aunt Marie.”

“That's who raised you, your aunt Marie?”

Nick nodded slowly. “I had my mom and dad until I was 12…”

“What happened to them?” she asked hesitantly.

Nick took a breath. “My dad was killed, and I thought my mom was too until a couple of years ago.”

“Were they Grimms?”

“My dad wasn't, and my mom was... is,” he amended.

“You've seen her?”

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed a little, remembering meeting her again when she beat up several men that had broken into his house. “She's come to visit a couple of times.”

“You’ll like her,” Sloane said. “She’s very cool.” Nick smiled more in agreement.

“…What about you, Sloane?”

“Ah…well, I was raised by my grandmother from pretty much the time I was born until I was 9,” she said. “My mother is a Grimm and didn’t want to give up hunting and traveling. Then my grandmother was murdered when I was 9 with me hiding in a hidden cupboard and watching.”

“Oh my God,” Trubel said, grimacing.

“Yeah…After that it was me and Deirdre till I was 18.”

“Deirdre?”

“My…mentor.”

“What about your dad?”

“No idea,” she shrugged. “Wasn’t there when I was born, never met him, who knows. Stopped caring when I figured it doesn’t stop me for being me.”

Trubel nodded slowly, understanding maybe more than she let on. They drove out into the woods maybe about 30 minutes from Nick’s house, pulling into a clearing through what was barely considered a road or path off the main road. “You're right. It is gonna be harder to find,” Trubel said. “Think it'll be safe here?”

“For a little while,” Nick said.

“…You know what you were saying about your mom coming back?” Nick and Sloane looked at her curiously while he made sure the trailer was level. “I don't know how I'd feel if I saw my mom and dad again. Must have been weird.”

Nick nodded a bit, remembering the shock, elation, betrayal, confusion all running through him at a rapid pace over and over again for days after he met Kelly again. “Well, a little bit.” He and Sloane unhitched the trailer.

“I don't know if my parents were Grimms or not,” Trubel also said wistfully.

“One of them had to be,” Nick said, opening the back of his car and hauling the chest around so the other hand was there. Trubel came forward to grab a handle of the trunk. “Let's get this trunk inside. “Got it?”

“Yeah,” she grunted, hefting it out with him and moving around. Sloane hopped the hitch and came around to open the door much to their appreciation as they squeezed the trunk through.

“I don’t think I have enough room for the trunk…” Nick sighed.

“Let’s go through again. Figure out what you want to keep, I’ll take what’s left and the trunk,” Sloane said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I like it. Needs a little work but it’ll give me a project. All else fails, it goes back to Oma’s basement next time I visit. Speaking of which…” She reached into her jacket and pulled out an envelope. “I know we’re kind of at the climax of one wedding almost, but Jean and Mim sent this for you. It’s not till next spring and you’re a guest, not a groomsman.”

Nick smiled, taking the invite. “I’m honored none the less. Are you maid of honor again?”

“Yes. For both of them?” she said, shrugging. “I didn’t know you could do that, but hey. It’s really gonna be a small ceremony. They’ve lived together over 30 something years but they figure they’re getting older and it would be good to have spousal rights…”

“Sorry, who are we talking about?” Trubel asked, confusion clear.

“Ah, right. So, besides my grandmother, there were two women that were kind of her…wards? Friends? Complicated. But they’re wesen—a Jagerbar and a Lowen. That was a surprise about 7 months ago but…I’ve come to terms with it. And they’ve been in love since before I was born, so that’s not a surprise at all.”

“Oh…Sweet,” she said, nodding a little.

Nick smiled and put the invite into his jacket pocket. “I’ll save the date.”

“Please do. The ceremony is at the courthouse, but then they’re planning a huge party—it might span the woods between Oma’s and their house. Think like Woodstock actually in the woods, according to Mim.”

“Sounds like fun,” he smiled. He opened the trunk and knelt to start going through it. He pulled out the books first and Sloane set them with the others that needed to be gone through. Ingredients she looked over and tried to figure out if they were any good still. Some needed to be tossed out, but others were usable. Then they went through the weapons.

“Well, it must not have been easy for him,” Trubel said, putting a club away.

“Who?” Nick asked.

“The guy that had all this stuff.”

“Rolek?”

She nodded. “He…stopped being a Grimm?”

“You don’t stop,” Sloane sighed. “I mean, maybe if you go blind, but it’s not something that goes away with age. He knew my grandmother and mother, knew what a Dead Letter was…said he didn’t have any hunts left. Sounds like he probably just tried to retire. Like my grandmother did.”

“Why do you think he didn't tell his son though?”

“Well, he probably wanted him to have a normal life,” Nick said, thinking about his mother and Marie keeping him in the dark as well.

“That's possible?” she asked dubiously.

He sighed and shook his head. “No…well, not for a Grimm. If you don’t inherit…” He looked at Sloane.

“It’s…possible?” she said uncertainly. “But not likely. Even if you don’t inherit the sight, you carry the genes. I’ve heard some wesen hunt down various branches of Grimm families trying to destroy bloodlines. One with a very stupid mustache started a war.”

“Ah…right,” he nodded. “And I guess it caught up to him in the end.” He paused and then brought out a very nice-looking stiletto dagger with an ornate guard and scabbard. “Ooh. Haven't seen one of these before.” He unsheathed it, looking over the almost black blade admiringly.

Trubel came over to look. “Some kind of knife…”

He nodded, then noted a switch on the guard. Pressing it, he jumped when the blade split into three separate blades and then chuckled a little. “Impressive.”

Sloane smiled back, liking the wonder in his eyes. “Admiring lethal weapons, detective?”

“Well, you know…it’s cool,” he said. He smiled a bit at her teasing, knowing she was referencing when they first met and were getting used to each other and he was a bit more uptight about all this. She chuckled back.

Trubel looked at the knife and then at them. “If you could choose to be a Grimm or not, what would you do?”

Both of them looked at her in surprise and then each other. “Well…it hasn't made my life any easier,” Nick said delicately. “Or Juliette's. Or yours,” he said, looking at Sloane.

Sloane nodded slowly. “Any of us, really…”

Trubel gave a bitter laugh, looking over at one of the books again. “Better being a Grimm than being crazy…I think.”

Sloane chuckled and paused when her phone rang, Rosalee’s name on the screen. She picked it up and held it to her ear as she put a few bottles in the cupboard. “Rosalee, hey. What’s up?”

“A lot,” she laughed. “Um, so…I had an eventful morning.”

Sloane paused, looking at Nick and arching her brow. “I mean, it’s your wedding day so…Wait, did something happen?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, giggling. “So…Early this morning, we came downstairs to find my sister, drunk, wearing our grandmother’s wedding dress…which she had proceeded to rip a big hole in and spill red wine over.”

Sloane dropped the next bottle in shock, Nick just barely catching it. “She-she what?! You’re dress?!”

“Yep. Said it was cursed and she was saving me, because she had two bad marriages wearing it.”

“…Do I—”

“We’re not killing her,” Rosalee said quickly.

“No, she’s your sister, I was going to say arrest her,” Sloane said defensively. Nick looked at her in confusion now and she made a _later_ motion.

“I was definitely tempted on both accounts earlier,” Rosalee said. “But…it worked out for the best. Bart and Alice convinced a boutique to open early and bought me a new dress.”

“Really?” she said, jaw dropping.

“Yes! Officially, best in-laws ever!” she yelled, probably wanting them to hear.

“No kidding,” Sloane laughed. “I was worried there for a second. So, this dress is good?”

“Yep. They had the sample in my size and were willing to sell it to me for a bit less, though charge a bit more for the fastest in-house alterations ever. And…Oh my god, it’s so beautiful,” she said, choking up a bit. “I mean, you don’t have to sugar coat it, my grandmother’s dress was…”

“Old-fashioned?” Sloane said delicately.

“It was dowdy. Like, I looked like an actual grandma in it. And you thought so too, didn’t you?” she said with a laugh.

“Weeelll…you seemed to like it or at least didn’t want to spend more money on one, so I didn’t want to say anything to make you hate it or make things awkward…” she said honestly.

“I appreciate that, really. But his is so much better.”

“Really?” Her phone dinged and Sloane pulled it away to see she’d sent a picture from the boutique’s dressing room. The dress was lace and sparkles, with a sweetheart neck and a trumpet silhouette so that it curved around her thighs to her knees and then outward again. She looked ecstatic in it and Bart and Alice looked excited as heck too. “Holy hell! You were holding out on everyone!”

Rosalee laughed. “It felt like I was holding out on myself. I think Bart and Alice enjoyed it too. They don’t have a daughter so…”

“Sounds like it worked out all around,” Sloane said, smiling. “Any other emergencies I can help with though or did you just want to brag about being a beautiful bride in a new dress?”

“Mostly that, but also wanted you to still be a part of this part a bit. Didn’t show Monroe though, now it gets to be a surprise!”

Sloane smiled. “Well, I am 100% behind this dress and Monroe may actually howl when he sees you.” She wolf whistled and Rosalee laughed again. “I’ll see you at the lodge soon, okay?”

“Okay. Oh, but…”

“But…?”

“Well, this all did throw me off a bit…do you think you could go to the lodge a little early and make sure everything is being set up right?” she asked, a little sorry by her tone.

“Yeah, that’s no problem. We’ll finish up here and I’ll head over about 2?”

“That would be great, thank you!” she sighed in relief. “I’ll see you there.”

“See you there.” They hanged up and Nick looked at her quizzically. “Well…guess what happened?”

\-------------------------

Once they were done, Nick dropped Trubel and Sloane back off at their house so he could head home and relax for a bit before preparing for the wedding.

“So, for dinner, do you want me to get you some take out or just give you cash?”

“Oh, you mean so I won't cook?” Trubel asked quizzically.

“Ahhh, well…I’d like to come home to my house in one piece.” Trubel pouted a little and Sloane chuckled. “I'm kidding. Sort of. But seriously, what do you want to eat?”

Trubel paused in the living room, playing with one of the books that Nick had actually given her out of the new collection, for keeps. Sloane noted the rather worried look on her face and frowned. “You know, I appreciate all you've done for me…but I can't keep living off you like this.”

Her eyebrows ticked up in surprise. “Well…it’s not really like that, exactly. I mean, I’m helping train you, seems natural I make sure you’re…taken care of? Just until you know what you need to know.”

“And how long is that?”

“Uh…well…”

“You said before, you learned more in the last couple of years here than you had in a long time. So, it’s not like you can teach me everything, right?”

Sloane winced a bit. “Well…yes, but I want to be sure you’re ready for most dangers out there…And we like having you around. I like having you around.”

Trubel smiled slightly but then looked down. “At some point, I'm gonna have to...not be around.”

“…I know,” she nodded. She did, really. But it was somehow hard to hear. Leaving Dierdre hadn’t been hard—for Dierdre at least, she’d just been gone when she got home from the library. Leaving her old hunting party had been hard but necessary. Trubel talking about leaving her though…stung.

She must’ve read that worry more for what Trubel might be like on her own because she sighed. “I get you don’t want me to be ‘traditional’, but I…I want to travel. Now that I can enjoy it a bit more, feel a bit freer and like I’m not going to be locked up if I don’t act right. I know how to better handle myself if I see a wesen, and if they see me.”

“…Yeah, you do.” She tried to smile. “Just…don’t think it’s any trouble for me, okay? That’s not an issue, really.”

Trubel nodded a tiny bit. “I appreciate that. But if I get hungry, I will figure it out. I gotta get a little more independent.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding up her hands. “Let me know if you do need anything, Miss Independent.”

Trubel rolled her eyes but smiled and headed for her room. Sloane sighed as she watched and suddenly, with just a door between them, she felt very, very lonely. Sharing her space with someone had become nice. Now she was thinking what it would be like to be on her own again—something she once relished and now it felt like a looming weight swinging over her head.

Sighing, she went to wash up and get ready to head to the lodge. She took a quick shower to freshen up and was toweling her hair when there was a knock at her door. “Um…Sloane?”

“Yeah?”

Trubel opened the door, peaking in. “Could you…call my phone?”

“…I could, but why?” she asked dubiously.

“…I can’t find it,” she admitted, blushing a little.

Sloane smiled grabbing hers from the bedside table where she was topping off the charge. It rang but they didn’t hear it in the house. “Do you have it on silent?”

“No, it shouldn’t be…”

Sloane perked up when the call was answered. “Sloane?”

“Nick?”

“Hey…uh, this was in my back seat.”

“I see…Just a sec.” She looked at Trubel with an amused smile. “Trubel, you left your phone in Nick’s car.”

“Dammit,” she muttered. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, we can go get it.”

“But you gotta get over to the lodge, right? It’s like the opposite direction.”

“Ah…Yes…”

“I could bike over in a bit, if it’s okay with Nick?”

“You left the bike at his house,” she reminded her.

“Oh yeah…well, I could walk?”

“To Nick’s?” she scoffed.

“It’ll take a longer but it’s a nice day. I’d kind of like to think about some stuff…”

Sloane hummed, eyeing her. “…You’ll take something to arm yourself?”

She shrugged, not feeling it a strange question as some might. “Yeah, duh.”

She nodded and went back to the phone, putting it on speaker. “Nick? When are you and Juliette leaving?”

“Not for a while but we gotta get ready.”

“Would it be okay for Trubel head over? She says she wants to walk so it’ll be a while.”

“Uhhh…sure, should be fine. I’ll leave the door unlocked and the phone on the coffee table”

“Thanks, Nick!” Trubel said with a smile.

“You’re welcome. See you in a bit,” he chuckled.

“See you.” They hanged up and Sloane smiled at her. “I better start heading out.”

“I’ll go in a bit.”

“Alright. I’m sorry you can’t come with us…”

“It’s okay,” Trubel shrugged. “I mean, I’m happy for Monroe and Rosalee but I don’t know them that well yet. Plus, I’m not gonna take some of those drops when you already have a pretty short supply.”

She smiled and nodded in thanks before shooing her out so she could change. The bridesmaid dress was at the venue already, so it was casual as she headed out and over to the lodge. She left her things in the dressing room for Rosalee and her bridesmaids before going to make sure that things were being set up right till the other party members arrived. She had no idea, while she was busy helping set up the flowers, that Captain Renard tried to call her. She had no idea Adalind was still in town and had called Juliette twice insinuating Renard was back under a spell. She had no idea Renard had figured out the “Juliette” that had kissed him the night before was not Juliette and that he’d found the remnants of a potion she’d used.

None of them new that Adalind’s plan had already been put in motion.

\--------------------------

Trubel waited a bit before walking to Nick’s house. She’d grabbed her old machete before leaving, hiding it down her pants leg like the old days. She sighed a bit. It wasn’t necessarily that she _wanted_ to leave, but she also wanted to learn more about being a Grimm. Not just Nick or Sloane’s versions, but what she wanted to do as a Grimm. Maybe as a person, now that she knew she wasn’t crazy.

It took about almost an hour to get to Nick’s—taking a few shortcuts maybe she some would frown on—and she walked up. She tried the door and it was unlocked like he said. “Hello?” There was no answer, but she shrugged and went over to grab her phone. Glancing at the kitchen, she noticed the bowl of apples. A snack wouldn’t be bad she decided and went over to wash one up. As she came back through, Juliette was coming down the stairs and almost ran into her. “Oh! Hey, sorry Juliette.”

“No problem,” she said, though she had an odd look on her face. Like she didn’t recognize her.

Trubel smiled. “Got my phone. Don't worry, I wasn't cooking anything in the kitchen,” she held up the apple.

“Mm-hmm,” Juliette said impatiently, turning to start walking for the door. Trubel frowned, confused.

“Except bacon!” she called.

“Whatever, I hate bacon,” she snapped, opening the door.

Trubel gawked in confusion. Firstly, that anyone could hate bacon. Secondly, she knew Juliette had said just the night before she might have a bacon addiction.

“Are you going to the wedding?” she asked. Juliette said nothing, marching out the door. Trubel glanced upstairs where she heard the shower going, and then at the door. Taking a bit out of the apple, she headed right out the door to follow “Juliette”. She trailed her out of the house and down the sidewalk for a while until they were at the street a couple of blocks away that had a lot of little stores. She watched her hail a taxi and frowned, then did a second take as it was driving away and suddenly the woman in the car was blonde and definitely _not_ Juliette. She hid behind a signpost to be sure she wasn’t seen but kept her eyes on the car as it headed away. “Holy shit…” she turned to quickly head back to Nick’s house. However, as she was getting up to the house, she saw Juliette and Nick climbing into their car to head to the wedding. “W…what the heck?”

She walked back up, heading in to look around. Nothing seemed out of place though, but she felt incredibly confused. She went to the guest room to sit on the bed and think, grunting and pulling the machete from her pants leg before tossing it down with a sigh. She sat down to think, pulling the journal from her bag to thumb through. She doubted there would be anything about seeing double or people changing form, but maybe she’d be lucky? She wasn’t sure how long she was there before she heard someone knocking furiously on the door. She quickly headed downstairs and to the door.

“Nick! Nick, come on, open up.” She saw through the large window in the door a man with short black hair and relatively distinguished features. “Nick!” He paused, looking at her in confusion.

“Who are you?” Trubel asked suspiciously.

He eyed her back, panting and speaking urgently. “I'm Sean Renard. I'm Nick's Captain. Is he home?” She hesitated and he huffed, looking put out. “Look, I need to speak to him. It's very important.”

She sighed finally and unlocked the door. “Yeah, I remember you from the police station…”

He quickly marched in. “Hey, Nick. Nick!”

“Nick's not home,” Trubel said.

Renard looked back. “Where is he?”

“He went to a wedding with Juliette.”

“Is that where Sloane is too?”

She frowned, unsure why he was looking for Sloane too. “Yeah, she went over early to help set up,” Trubel nodded. “What's wrong?”

“Who are you?” Renard finally asked.

“I'm a friend of theirs,” Trubel said, feeling a little awkward. “I'm just staying with Sloane for a while and I left my phone behind earlier...”

“Was Adalind here?” he asked, looking around.

Trubel perked up. “I heard of her. I don't know her.”

“Long, blonde hair. Pretty,” he said. Trubel’s eyes widened and he saw it. “You saw her, didn't you?”

“I don't know…I saw Juliette coming downstairs and…she didn’t seem to know me. She said she didn't like bacon, which was weird, because Juliette said she did. Anyway, I thought she got into a fight with Nick because she left but I had a weird feeling. So, I followed her, and she got into a cab, and the cab drove past me but…it wasn't Juliette anymore,” she said hesitantly.

Renard sighed, nodding slowly. “It was Adalind.”

“I thought I saw two Juliettes,” Trubel said. “Is she…wesen?”

Renard snapped his attention back to her but nodded slowly. “The one that you followed, was she ever alone with Nick?”

“Yeah, before I got here. Is Nick okay?” she asked worriedly.

“No,” he shook his head, fumbling into his coat. “No, and I need to know where he is. Look, I know this sound crazy, but he has to drink this.” He pulled out a bottle with a viscous green liquid in it and Trubel wrinkled her nose.

“What'd she do to him?”

“Something very bad if I don't get to him. You know where the wedding is?”

“Uh, yeah, hold on. It's, uh...” She rushed over to the computer station near the stairs, looking through the papers before finding the invite and handing it to him. “I should go with you.”

Renard shook his head. “No, you stay here. I'll handle this.” He put the invitation in his coat and headed for the door and out. Trubel sighed, worried and a little annoyed at being left behind. She jumped when she heard three loud pops outside and watched as Renard stumbled back and knocked a lamp over. There were three bullet holes in his chest that made concerning gurgles as he tried to breath, looking shocked and confused as red welled up over his shirt. Trubel moved to go try and check on him when a man stepped through the door with a gun in hand. He was older, with steel grey hair and a wild look in his eyes. He was looking at Renard as if to finish him off when he saw Trubel. She turned and ran for the stairs and the man gave chase. She managed to slow him down by throwing the small side table on the landing at him and tripping him up before getting to the guest room and slamming the door, quickly pushing the chair under it.

\----------------

Rosalee looked in the mirror, breathing out when the dress fit perfectly despite the rushed alterations. Sloane smiled a bit, sitting for the hair dress to finish pinning her hair back. She’d managed to do two elegant braids despite the short cut she usually wore and brought them to a delicately textured nest of curls at the back with a sparkly barrette that Rosalee got her and DeEtta for a bridesmaid’s gift. DeEtta was still a bit sheepish, but Rosalee had forgiven her easily enough once things were worked out. “You do look amazing in this one.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling. She already her hair pulled back in a low bun, with sprigs of baby’s breath made of crystals around it.

The hairdresser patted Sloane’s shoulder and she smiled gratefully and stood to go over to her while she packed up and left. Rosalee opted for soft darker grey tea dresses with sheer shoulders that made the pale purple of the roses and white of the calla lilies pop in their bouquets. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…nerves. I mean I know I want to be with Monroe, that he wants to be with me, so why is this so nerve wracking?!”

“You get used to it,” DeEtta said. “Second time isn’t nearly as bad.”

“There’s not going a second one,” Rosalee said with a deadpan expression.

“Well, with the cursed dress gone, that may be true now. You’re welcome.”

Rosalee rolled her eyes and Sloane leaned down to mutter. “Arrest offer still open; we can grab Juliette for another bridesmaid. I think she’ll fit in her dress.”

“I heard that!”

They laughed and Sloane caught the small decorative pillow she tried to throw. “I better put those eyedrops in now I think,” she chuckled, going over to her jacket. She frowned when she noted she had a message waiting from Renard of all people on her phone and held it to her ear.

“_Sloane, I need to talk to Nick! It’s an emergency, I think Adalind has something planned for him and I can’t reach him to warn him. Please, call me as soon as you can.”_

She felt her stomach dip and quickly redialed when the message ended. There was no pickup and it went to Renard’s voicemail now, but she sighed and hanged up rather than play phone tag.

“What’s wrong?” Rosalee asked.

Sloane looked up and then smiled reassuringly. “Nothing! Just…weird message.” She put the phone down and grabbed the tiny dropper in her jacket, quickly putting half in one eye and half in the other, grunting at the slight burn. She turned and Rosalee and DeEtta gasped as they saw her eyes turn black despite no one woging. “I know, give it a second.” The watched as the blackness seemed to almost disappear as though melting frost over a window and her eyes were back to their green hue.

“Wow…that was freaky,” DeEtta said.

“I can imagine. Could one of you woge just to be sure they’re working?” she asked as she dabbed and went to fix her make up. Thank god for waterproof mascara at weddings.

DeEtta nodded and Sloane saw her move as if working a kink out of her neck, but saw no change. “…Okay, I don’t see anything. Do you?”

“Nope, still looking like you did before,” she sighed. She looked at the phone again and sighed. “You okay for a second, I want to check on something.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Rosalee nodded.

Sloane smiled and headed out the door and down to where the men were getting ready, knocking on the door. Hank opened it and then smiled brightly. “Dang, I thought bridesmaid’s dresses were supposed to be ugly.”

She smiled. “Rosalee has good taste.”

“Thank you!” Monroe called.

“Ha ha. Hey, can I talk to Nick a second?”

Nick walked over, leaning out. He was in his suit with a black tie and rose boutonniere already in place and she felt surprised how handsome he was in it. But that wasn’t important and she quickly pushed the thought aside. “Hey…what’s up?”

“Out here,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him to a quiet corner of the lodge. “Have you checked your phone?”

“Uh…no, kind of busy…” he said. He seemed awkward and she frowned.

“Well, yeah, but I just checked mine and I got a call from Renard. Listen.” She played back the message and Nick listened before paling.

“Oh God…” he said, putting a hand to his mouth as if sick.

She frowned. “Nick?”

“…Something…happened before we got here,” he said haltingly, pacing a little.

“What kind of something?” she asked, watching him.

He sighed. “I…When I got home, I thought Juliette was supposed to be out getting her hair done. But she was home and…well, um…”

“And…?” she prompted worried.

“…We had sex.”

Sloane blinked owlishly and then frowned as she felt something bubble up in her. It was bitter and a little painful. “…Okay…I mean, you’re together so…Is that weird?” she said, trying hard to kill that feeling and stuff it down into a deep, dark hole. She didn’t need to examine it further; it was not something she wanted to think about or name.

“Yes—I mean no, but…Then when I got out of the shower, her hair was suddenly dyed, and she seemed confused why it looked like we had sex. She thought I cheated on her,” he said, laughing a little bitterly. “I guess I did, but it wasn’t intentional…She’d look just like her…”

“Wait…are you saying…?” she asked, growing horror in her voice. “Adalind was this other Juliette?!”

He took a breath, nodding. “Adalind had called Juliette earlier, under some pretense. She knew she wouldn’t be home. And she’s a Hexenbeast so…who knows what she’s capable of.”

“I…oh my god, Nick…” she said, gently. “Are you okay? I mean, no, this is…not okay, oh god…_why?_” she asked, mind racing. “Why would she do this?”

“I’ve stopped trying to figure Adalind out,” he said bitterly.

Sloane looked at him again and felt her heart ache at the expression he wore before softly reaching out to put a hand on his arm. “Nick…What can I do?”

He looked at her and then put a hand on hers with a small smile. “I’m…processing it still. So’s Juliette. She’s…not happy, to say the least. With Adalind or me.”

“What?” she said, frowning. “You—you are not a guilty party here! You didn’t know!”

“I guess I should’ve…It didn’t seem quite like her, but well…It’s no excuse. Everything that’s happened, this is just another hit. Another hazard of being a Grimm, and another thing that just…brings so much to her plate already without me cheating—”

“No!” she said, surprising him. “You did not cheat, and you are not blaming yourself for this! _Adalind tricked you into sex_! That is—she—”_ Sex under false pretenses! She assaulted you! _Was what she wanted to say, but she knew that saying it to someone’s face like that didn’t always help a situation. “When I get a hold of her, I am going to pull out her hair and garotte her with it! I—”

“Sloane, calm down,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders quickly. He glanced around but luckily no one had heard her. She was flushed with anger and righteous indignation, and the dress showed off the muscles of her arms and how tense she was from the buzz. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how hard she wanted to go fight at this moment because someone had done something to him. Like a knight in taffeta armor. “I appreciate that, really. But I don’t want it coloring today—this is Monroe and Rosalee’s wedding. So just…let’s get through it all and then we’ll figure out the why and what to do later, okay?”

She nodded slowly. “Okay…But then I will find her, and she will pay. You can watch.”

“I feel like I should have a bit of a hand in this…” he said, having to laugh at the determination she had.

“Fine, but I’m not convinced you know how to use a garotte effectively,” she said, smiling a little teasingly.

Nick had to snort a slight laugh and she smiled more; glad she could make him smile at least. “We’ll figure _something_ out. But…thanks.”

Bart leaned out the door then. “Hey! We’re getting his show on the road, guys!”

“You better get back to Rosalee,” Nick said, patting her shoulder.

“Right. Later.” She headed back upstairs, sighing a little bit. It occurred to her as they were getting ready to go down the isle that Renard still hadn’t called her back, but there was no time to try again.

\------------------------

Trubel tripped trying to back away from the door as a blow hit it and it hard enough she felt it in her throat. Her head hit the bedside table and she hissed as she felt the cut there but kept moving to get to the chair in the corner where her machete was. Then another hit and it burst open, sending the chair she had placed there flying. The man stepped in; eyes even wilder as he looked down at her. “Well, this is what I call being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said, a sadistic smile spreading across his face. He put the gun in his waistband behind his back. It confused Trubel but she quickly scrabbled back and faked using the chair as a support as she grabbed the machete without him noticing. “But I'm not gonna shoot you. Where's the fun in that?” He woged into a hundjager, snarling through fangs and fir and a dog-like muzzle. Trubel stood, keeping her gaze leveled on him. His eyes widened. “You're a Grimm.”

Trubel yelled and then brought her booted foot up and kicked him square in the chest. His shock left his defense down and he was sent crashing back through the door. Before he could get back up, she rushed out and he had only a moment to see her coming before the machete came down through his neck. It was a clean cut thanks to her training with Sloane. The head tumbled down the stairs like a ball and once it came to rest at the bottom he turned back into a human looking man. Trubel panted but then rushed downstairs and around the corner, grabbing the phone and dialing 911 while she checked on Renard. Miraculously he was breathing, but it sounded wet and thick. She knew she couldn’t be here when help came but was going to get it on its way. In the meantime, she needed to get help to Nick. She quickly went through his pockets to grab the bottle and the invite and then to grab Juliette’s keys from by the door. She’d have to borrow her car.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the responder finally asked as the line went through.

“Hi, yeah, someone’s been shot! It’s a cop!”

\-----------------

The string quartet started playing a slow, calming march as the ceremony started. DeEtta went first, walking elegantly down the aisle with Hank as a groomsman, arms linked. Then came Sloane and Nick. Sloane wrapped her hand around his bicep when he offered it and they smiled as the guests smiled back at them. The separated at the front, Sloane and DeEtta on one side, Nick and Hank standing behind Monroe.

Then the wedding march started and Rosalee appeared at the top of the stairs and they were sure Monroe forgot how to breath. The maids and groomsman looked at one another with knowing smiles. Rosalee was smiling radiantly as she made her way down to the bottom of the steps, where Bart was waiting—Originally she was going to walk on her own, but she’d asked him too after he told her it was nice to shop for a wedding dress since he didn’t have a daughter to do it with. Gloria had said Rosalee’s father would approve, but asked Bart to wear a pewter lapel pin shaped like a fox’s head that had belonged to her husband. She was going to give it to Rosalee so at least he was there in spirit, she had a twin of it that belonged to Freddie on her own dress. Bart was only too happy to do so. He walked Rosalee up to the platform in front of the grand fireplace like it was the greatest honor. Monroe watched her with wide, misty eyes and she smiled back with her own wet eyes. She kissed Bart’s cheek in thanks, and he smiled before going to join Alice in the audience. Sloane took Rosalee’s bouquet when it was offered to her and DeEtta took it, so she’d still have one free hand.

“Dearly beloved,” Judge Mason said with a beatific smile. “We are gathered here on this beautiful day to witness the union of Rosalee and Monroe. This is a day of great celebration, for a married life - a shared life - is a great blessing. As these two embark on this journey together they will be able to nurture a love that makes them better versions of themselves. Marriage—No, love itself, is a garden we grow with patience and understanding, and in return we grow as people with it. At times it may wane or wither, but with care and attention it will thrive.

“Monroe, Rosalee, on your journey together, I believe you will hold each other high in your hearts. The love that you share must be guarded and cherished forever, for it is your most valuable treasure. Always remember these words; Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way, but neither does it follow meekly. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about being right or the other wrong but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. This is the love we wish for you.”

Sloane found her eyes straying to Nick for a few moments as the vows were said. When she realized she felt a jolt of fear and guilt go through her and quickly looked away. What was wrong with her?! She noted several people were tearing up in the audience, though if they were woging she had no idea. Nick had no reaction either and thankfully hadn’t caught her looking at him.

“You have chosen to write your vows, and it is with these words you express your binding promises to love, honor, and cherish one another. If you are ready to make these promises to each other I invite you now to face each other and declare your intentions. Rosalee, when you're ready you may begin.”

Rosalee took a deep breath. “Monroe...When we first met, I didn't know what to make of you.” There was a few chuckles of laughter and Monroe smiled as well. “And it wasn't under the best of circumstances. I had just lost my brother and was going through a very difficult time. But once I met you, you just lifted my spirits, and you poured happiness back into my life. And it's only gotten better ever since. I love you. Through the hard times, the good times, and the weird times and everything we face together—I want to keep facing it together by your side.”

Monroe smiled, blinking back tears and holding on tightly to her hands.

“Monroe, when you are ready, you may begin,” Judge Mason said.

Monroe took a deep breath, settling his nerves. “Rosalee…I wasn't really a believer in love at first sight until I met you. Although, to be honest, it wasn't really love at first sight so much as it was love at first brick...” Another ripple of laughter through everyone present and Rosalee laughed as well. “Because if you hadn't hit that guy when you did, I don't think I would be standing here today. It is the life you saved with that brick I now give to you heart and soul. Now and forever. I’m yours.”

Rosalee smiled more, fluttering her eyes to try to keep from crying. Sloane vaguely picked up a buzzing sound and glanced at Nick who was quickly reaching into his suit jacket inside pocket to stop his phone. She didn’t have any pockets for hers but wondered why he didn’t turn it off.

“Do you have the ring?” Judge Mason asked Nick.

“I do,” he said, taking it out to hand over to Monroe.

Monroe slipped it over Rosalee’s finger and took a breath as if about to pray. “I, Monroe, take thee, Rosalee, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part.”

Rosalee was smiling so much it was radiating through the room. “Do you have the ring?” Judge Mason asked Sloane. She smiled and gently tugged it from the ribbon around her bouquet, slipping it free and hand it to her. “I, Rosalee, take thee, Monroe, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part.”

“Rosalee and Monroe, by the power vested in me by the state of Oregon, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!” Everyone cheered as they kissed, Monroe dipping her just a little as the wedding march started playing. “I now present, Mr. and Mrs.—”

“NICK!!” Everyone froze and Trubel slid into the hall and Nick’s jaw dropped as dread came over him and Sloane.

“Oh God…”

\----------------------

Emergency responders arrived and Nick and Juliette’s house as fast as they could, though she was already gone, and the door was wide open. Wu and Franco rushed to the scene as well, watching as they tried to stabilize Renard and get him carefully into the ambulance. Despite trying to keep his distance, knowing that there had been an attack and Nick’s house had made Wu’s blood run cold. More so when he found it was the captain—what was he doing there?! There was no sign of the woman who had called it in though. He watched numbly after driving up as Renard was loaded int the ambulance, trying to control his emotions. For the last couple of weeks, he’d been helping him, trying to find out what Adalind Schade was doing. He was convinced she was up to no good in some form, possibly to do with her mother’s murder. He’d been tailing her, reporting back his findings and helping where he could. Something was off about the blonde, but he wasn’t sure what. But she kept going between a storage unit with what he found out was her mother’s things and her hotel. Renard had been very interested but told him to keep back. Now he was found shot at Nick’s?

“Hey Wu! There’s no sign of Nick or Juliette,” Franco said from the doorway, getting his attention. “But you might want to see this…”

Wu went inside, grimacing at the blood pooled in the front entryway that he knew must be Renard’s. But then he had to pause when he turned to the stairs and gape. A head was lying there, a bloody stump at the neck and a now perpetual surprised look on his face. “Uh, where's the rest of him?” he asked dumbly.

“Upstairs,” Franco said.

Wu looked up and sighed, feeling weighed down by the strange circumstances just piling up. He had a feeling what this might mean by he tried to keep it out of his mind. “You I.D. the body?”

“Yeah. Came back as Weston Steward, FBI agent. The weird thing is, he's carrying a passport with his picture but another name, Walter Rathenau. What the hell do you think happened here?” Franco asked in disbelief.

Wu looked back at the bloody marks where Renard was found. “I have no idea,” he said again, trying to believe it. He turned and headed upstairs with Franco where the headless body was in the middle of the hall.

“There's a bloody machete,” Franco said, looking at the blade on the ground.

“It's a good bet that's how he lost his head.”

“Looks like a 9-millimeter,” he nodded to the gun in the dead man’s hand. Wu was willing to bet it was the gun that shot Renard. “Doesn't it seem to you like a lot of weird stuff happens in this house?”

“Nick's a cop. He's gonna make enemies.” _He also fights monsters when no one else is looking._

“What, enemies that chop people's heads off?”

Wu sighed, turning to look in the guest room as he pulled his phone out. “We better contact the FBI if this is really one of their guys. And I'll keep trying to contact Nick.”

Franco nodded, heading back to get what information he could and contact the Feds. As Wu was dialing, he noted a book on the bed and froze. He swallowed but slowly made his way closer. Only a small part was seen beneath a folded inner cover. _"I waited in the dark most of the night. When the treacherous beast returned, I cut off its head."_ He read slowly. He knew it. He knew it and yet he still reached out to open it properly and turn the page to see a scaled, monstrous face sketched on the paper. The leathery, purple face of the Aswang came to mind and he quickly closed it again, feeling sick. _Close the door. Close it._

\-----------------

Trubel was at the end of the aisle, past all the guests. Yet, before they could turn and see her, Sloane had dropped her bouquet, rushed like a linebacker down the white runner carpet, and practically tackled her. Except not to the ground—she instead lifted her up over her shoulder and turned so Trubel was facing away from the wesen who no doubt were woging in surprise so quick it was like she was a ragdoll. This was all done so fast Trubel lost her bearings and a bottle she was holding tumbled from her grip and broke on the floor with an oozing green liquid splattering against the back wall. “S’cuse us, carry on!”

“SLOANE! No, it broke!” Trubel yelled, but she was quickly backing away around the corner and then turning to go through the door. She set Trubel on her feet. “You broke it!” She yelled again.

“Calm down!” Sloane almost yelled back. “You just went into a room full of wesen, are you trying to make them all rise up and attack you! You’re already covered in blood—WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD?!” Sloane nearly yelled, reaching up to her forehead and then looking at her shirt that was splattered in red.

Trubel jerked out of her touch. “Adalind did something to Nick!”

Sloane paused. “I…yes, that’s one way to put it…”

“You know!? I mean, she was—she looked like Juliette!”

“Renard left me a voicemail and I talked to Nick about it—he figured out it when Juliette got home. How do you know?”

“I-I followed her. I saw her change, kind of. And then Renard came to Nick’s house looking for him and…and…”

“Trubel?” Sloane turned concerned as she breathed hard. They both jumped when the door opened and of all people, Bud came through.

“Sloane? Uh, hey, some people are a little worried about what just happened. I…Is-is that blood?”

“Bud—”

He twitched and she knew he must’ve woged because his jaw fell open. “Holy hell, she’s a—”

“Bud!” Sloane shouted over him. “She’s with me and Nick. We’ve got this, just…tell everyone I have it handled. _And nothing else._”

Bud nodded like a bobble head. “Y-yeah…okay, right. Shouldn’t say anything, cause a panic. I’ll just…tell them, um…”

“That my…cousin had an accident and I’m helping her.”

“Okay…got it.” He looked at Trubel again before turning to go back into the hall.

Sloane sighed and quickly put an arm around Trubel’s shoulders, leading her upstairs to the room. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

\---------

Despite the momentary interruption, they did continue and moved to the reception area. People gossiped a bit about the strange girl, asked Nick about it— “My cousin, she had an accident and didn’t know what else to do”—but soon went back to focusing on Monroe and Rosalee. Dinner was more of a buffet style so people could eat at their leisure, but it was a while still before Sloane returned. Nick saw her enter the room and was relieved for a moment before seeing how troubled she looked. He excused himself and moved to head over to her. When she saw him, her face scrunched up in even more concern and he slowed, unsure what to make of that.

“Hey, there’s the Maid of Honor!” the MC called, making Sloane jump. “Now we can do our toasts before we cut the cake!” Everyone cheered and Sloane did her best to smile. “I know it’s usually ladies first, but how about we make the Best Man go first?” More cheering and Nick smiled as he was ushered over to the mic.

“Ah, well…So, I’ve known Monroe for about 4 years now. At least in time sense, but it feels like I’ve known him a lot longer because he’s been such a great friend to me. I was there when he and Rosalee met, down to the exact moment, and I can say that I knew he felt an immediate spark from the hilariously smitten look on his face.” There were a few laughs as he tried to imitate the look and Monroe hid his face with a smile and a blush. “No, but really. I too am thankful for that brick he mentioned because it saved me too, but I know I would not be standing here if it weren’t for Monroe helping me. Hank and Sloane are my official partners at the police station, but Monroe—and Rosalee—are also my partners in making the life I lead a lot more bearable. Both are two of my best friends. They are fountains of wisdom and knowledge that I both do and do not want to know, but I always appreciate. They’re a warm home for their friends when they need it. And more than anything, they’re the most dependable and trusted people I know. When he asked me to be his best man, I didn’t believe him because I figured he must have so many other amazing friends to choose from. But it’s my honor to stand by him and watch him and Rosalee take this step that I thought might come that day he first saw her. And I can’t wait to see all the other milestones, and all the love and life and sweetness you bring to the point where we’re all jealous and sick of you.” More laugher and Nick raised the glass that Hank handed him. “To Monroe and Rosalee: raising the standards on love.”

Everyone cheered and toasted.

“And now, the maid of honor!”

Everyone clapped as Nick handed the mic to Sloane, but the didn’t hear her lean in and whisper, “I need to talk to you after this.” Nick tried not to frown at the urgency in her tone but nodded. She took a breath as she brought the mic up.

“So…A quick thing about me, and I’m sorry for cursing, I was a huge bitch before I met Rosalee.” Everyone was surprised, looking at one another, though a few laughed. “It’s true. I was not a nice person. Maybe not a good person. I didn’t really have to be before, for a lot of reasons we won’t go into. And I…wasn’t happy. I never admitted it, but I wasn’t. But I am now, and who I am now is thanks to a lot of people, but Rosalee gets the credit for making me want to start changing. She is the first real friend I’ve had in years. Maybe forever. My best friend. And I am grateful beyond words for that, and beyond words for the man that makes her happy. Monroe…I needed to warm up to. But once I did, he’s like that quirky friend who goes nuts over Christmas and clocks and makes pudding out of seeds that I didn’t know I needed in my life. For me, it was an acquired taste but for Rosalee I think it was her greatest craving. Him, not the pudding.” A few people chuckled and Monroe smiled. “Now...he’s one of my closest friends too. Again, Rosalee was a big help there. She’s very good at guilting you into being a good person. And overall, I’ve…changed. It’s a scary thing to think about. Change itself is scary. I think that’s what a lot of the nerves for everyone today were about,” she looked at Rosalee. “Change can be really scary and it’s hard to know what the future holds. But I have and the fact that these two had enough patience and kindness and understanding to help me change gives me no worries about where they’ll go from here. You guys love each other so much, that it feels like a force in the room. It’s magnetic, and bright and it makes everyone feel it and feel better for it. I’m not worried that it will ever weaken or dim—you’ve been through enough to prove that. You can do anything together. So, a toast to the future and how bright it’s going to be.” The words felt a little hypocritical knowing something was wrong, but she still smiled as she raised her glass.

They all cheered and toasted again and Rosalee got up to go over and hug her with tears in her eyes. Sloane smiled and hugged her back. Nick hugged Monroe when he came over too, both of them clapping each other’s backs. The photographer came over and took several photos with them and they managed to smile happily. When they pulled away, Sloane reached out and tugged Nick’s sleeve with a serious look again. He followed her as the MC started getting a few more people to say words. Rosalee, Monroe and Juliette noted her leading him away with confusion as she took him to the back room. “What’s wrong? Is it Trubel? I mean…”

“It’s both,” she sighed, knowing what he meant. “Did anyone see her as a Grimm?”

“No, I don’t think so, but I couldn’t tell if they were woging…”

“Me neither. I guess if no one’s freaking out it’s safe.” She looked at him. “Nick, how do you feel?”

“Uh…Okay?” She narrowed her eyes, searching his face and he shrugged. “I feel normal, why?”

“…Trubel says Renard went to your house to try and find you. He had that jar of stuff, the one that broke—”

“Yeah, we cleaned that up,” Nick said.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “I figured, but damn…”

“Damn?”

“Nick, Renard thinks Adalind did something to you. Something that needed a _cure_.”

“…What like a wesen STI?” he said, trying to laugh. “Sloane, I’m fine. I gotta deal with this with Juliette, but otherwise I just want to forget—”

“This is serious, Nick,” Sloane snapped. “Renard was shot at your house!”

Nick froze, eyes widening. “W…what?”

“He was coming here, Trubel got him the information. But he was suddenly shot by someone. A Hundjager. It tried to attack Trubel and she had to kill it before rushing over here—she was covered in blood!”

“I…” Nick sat down in a nearby chair. “Is he…?”

“She’s not sure. She called for help and I tried getting through to the station but it’s in an uproar and I couldn’t get an update. They’ve been trying to call you.”

Nick quickly pulled out his phone. “I…have a call from him, and then a call Wu from during the ceremony, but that’s the only ones I see.”

Sloane shrugged, sitting with him. “Trubel said he was really worried for you. Are you sure you feel okay?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “I mean, I feel…dirty, because…of how it all went down. But I don’t feel sick. I’m not passing out like Juliette did when she cursed her. Maybe he was worrying for nothing?”

“…I hope so on one hand, but worry what that means about him getting shot…I know he’s not always upfront, but he’s still…” _A friend?_ She wasn’t sure and Nick didn’t look sure either.

“I’ll try and call Wu and…I guess prepare Juliette. How bad is our house do you think?”

“Uh…gunshot victim and a beheading so…” She grimaced.

Nick sighed, putting his face in his hands. “I…just wanted a normal day. Just a day with my friends, at a wedding for them.”

“I know,” she said sympathetically, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I wanted that too…I’m proud of being a Grimm still, but I didn’t want it to mess this up. But we probably need to go deal with this as quickly as we can.”

“We?”

“Hey, it may be your house, but he’s my captain too. And you’re kind of my friend. You’re stuck with me meddling in your life,” she said, smiling a little. Nick smiled back gratefully. “I’m going to check on Trubel, and we should think about heading over.”

Nick nodded and she stood to walk off. He sighed, pulling off his jacket and draping it over the chair as he felt hot with all the emotions running through him. He looked up at the ceiling for a few moments before standing and heading back to the room. Monroe and Rosalee were going out to the dance floor to start their first dance together and he smiled wistfully. It wasn’t so long ago, he swore, that he imagined doing that with Juliette. A big part of him still wanted to, but there were a lot of other emotions that were conflicting with it and gave him a headache.

“Hey…” he said, coming up to Juliette’s side.

She looked up and tried to smile. “Hey…what’s up?”

“Sloane…got some bad news from Trubel.”

She turned more, frowning. “What kind of bad news?”

“There…was an incident, at our house. A bigger one, I mean.”

“I don’t know, the other was pretty big,” she huffed.

Sloane meanwhile had headed back upstairs to the bridal room, grabbing her shirt from the bag she brought. She hissed and grabbed the chair suddenly, feeling a bloom of pain behind her eyes. “Ugh…wearing off already? I guess it’s been a couple of hours …” Sighing, she grabbed the other vial of drops too, debating if she needed them or if they would head out before it became an issue. She decided to check with Nick and see what he thought was best. Heading down, he wasn’t in the hall again, but his jacket was still over the chair. She picked it up to find him and paused when she felt over the pocket folding it over her arm. Frowning, she reached in and pulled out two, full vials. _Two…why does he have…_

Her eyes widened and she rushed out into the hall again as Monroe and Rosalee were finishing their first dance. Nick was over by Juliette, looking like he was trying talk with her. Sloane rushed over and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards the door. “Back in the hall!”

“What-Sloane!” he yelped, nearly tripping at how hard she was pulling. Monroe and Rosalee noticed as she dragged him through the door, Juliette following quickly. Looking at one another, and then to Hank, they all quickly followed.

“Um, excuse us, everyone please dance, we just need to check on something,” Rosalee said, Monroe smiling and nodding tensely as they went through the door. The crowd was surprised but Bart and Alice had a feeling they needed to keep everyone away from the hall for the time being.

Sloane didn’t take any chances, pulling Nick back the room where Trubel was waiting. “Okay, what’s happened?” he asked. “Is it the captain?”

“No. Nick, you said you didn’t see anyone woge earlier, right?”

“Uh…yeah?” he asked, confused. Rosalee and Monroe came in as well, looking at them.

“Did you take the eyedrops?”

“I…” he paused and then frowned. “I…um…”

“What’s this about?” Juliette asked.

Sloane looked at Monroe and turned Nick around. “Monroe, woge.”

“What?”

“Woge, now! The kind keirsheite can’t see!”

“I don’t perform well under pressure!” She gave him a look and he sighed and then woged.

“Are my eyes black?”

“Yeah…”

“Are Nick’s?” she asked more urgently.

“Uh…no, they’re clear,” he said, a little more unsure. He woged back. “The drops haven’t worn off?”

Sloane opened her hand, showing the vials plus her third. “Both of these were in Nick’s pocket, I felt them! But you should’ve taken one before the ceremony!”

“I-I forgot…” he said, his mind catching up and racing past it now. “With…with everything happening before I just forgot…”

“But…you really didn’t see me woge just now?” Monroe asked, confused and worried now.

“N-No…I wasn’t sure you did…”

Monroe frowned and looked at Rosalee. Both of them woged and Nick saw the movements he associated with them: the shifting head and posture, Monroe’s jaw hanging a bit more open as if filled with fangs, Rosalee’s nose twitching slightly—but they looked completely human. “They’re still normal…” Rosalee said, seeming to mimic his thoughts but staring at his eyes. “I can see Sloane’s and Trubel’s eyes turn black but nothing out of you, Nick…”

“What does this mean?” Trubel asked, looking between them.

“…Nick…isn’t a Grimm,” Sloane said. “His power is gone.”

Nick felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Juliette looked equally shocked. “…This is what Adalind did?”

“What? What did she do?” Hank asked.

“It’s a lot to go over,” Sloane said. She put the vials into her own bag and handed Nick his jacket. “But right now, we need to get Trubel out of here and you two should probably come as well because there’s been an incident at your house. And Renard’s been shot. That’s part of the incident.”

“What?!” they all barked.

“Sloane, that is a lot to drop all of a sudden!” Juliette said.

“Well I’m sorry, I thought that’s what Nick was telling you!”

“I was trying, but there were a lot of people around,” Nick said dazedly. “But I thought…I thought I was okay…How did I forget…how did I not realize…?”

Rosalee frowned and then looked at Juliette and Sloane. “Go on. You need to work this out.”

“I’m sorry,” Sloane sighed. “I was really hoping this day would be…uneventful?”

She smiled and hugged her again. “Hey, things happen. We’ll finish up here, save you all some cake and…then get to work on this with you. But you better go now while the guests are preoccupied.”

They nodded and quickly headed out the back way and over to their cars. They decided riding together in Nick’s car and explaining things would work best, Trubel recounting what happened once more. Sloane called the hospital while Hank drive to get an update on Renard, who was apparently still in surgery.

“Did the Captain say what was in the bottle that he wanted me to take?” Nick asked.

She shook her head and he saw she had a bandage on her head now where she’d gotten a cut taking a fall during her fight. “No, he just said you had to drink it or something really bad would happen. And Adalind did it.” Nick looked at Juliette who was upfront riding shotgun next to Hank while Sloane and Trubel were with Nick in the back. The look wasn’t a happy one—it was awkward and a little harsh. Trubel seemed to sense that. “Hey, maybe what she did to you won't last.”

“You don't know Adalind,” Nick sighed, rubbing his face.

“She's a Hexenbiest, a witch,” Hank said.

“In more ways than one,” Juliette added under her breath.

“Oh, yeah, I read about them,” Trubel nodded.

“That's how she transformed herself to look like me.”

“She did what?” Hank asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her in confusion.

She sighed. “She made Nick think it was me.”

“Why in the hell would she...”

“So Nick would sleep with her,” she said flatly. It was like a record scratch and they were all quiet. Hank looked like he was having a short existential crisis. Trubel looked even more confused. Sloane grimaced and looked at Nick sympathetically, but he was staring out the window. “I swear to God, I'm gonna find her, and I'm gonna...”

“I’m with you on that, but we need to find out how to reverse this first. Also, um…deal with that,” she added, seeing the flashing lights outside of Nick and Juliette’s house.

“We should turn around,” Trubel said, shrinking down in her seat.

“We have to deal with this,” Nick said.

“I killed that guy!”

“In self-defense.”

“They're gonna be all over Trubel,” Hank said, shaking his head.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“You're just gonna tell the truth, except for the part about the Hundjager,” Nick said.

“And Adalind.”

“And the bottle he brought for Nick,” Juliette pointed out.

“Plus why she had the machete,” Sloane pointed out.

Nick sighed, rubbing over his face.

“All right, look, we better figure this out pretty quick. And if we have to lie, we better all be telling the same one,” Hank said. They all nodded as he pulled up to the house. Climbing out, they started for the front door that was awash in police officers

“What if they arrest me?” Trubel asked quietly.

“It was self-defense and we’ll figure that out.”

“What about the machete? How's she gonna explain that?” Hank hissed.

“Just tell them it was mine, and I keep it in that room,” Nick said back, heading to the house. Several officers looked relieved Nick and Juliette were safe. A few more were doing double takes at Sloane in her bridesmaid dress.

“Where you guys been?” Wu asked, looking frazzled.

“We were at a wedding. Had our phones turned off,” Hank said.

“All of you?”

“Yeah. Mutual friend,” Sloane said.

“…Never seen you in a skirt…” Franco said.

“Not really the point here, Franco,” she said impatiently.

“Right, sorry.”

“Who's the primary on this?” Nick asked.

“Meacham and Pogue. Listen, I've got some bad news.”

“We know... Captain's been shot,” Hank said.

“We just got off the phone with the hospital. He's in surgery.”

“He's lucky to be alive,” Franco said.

“When we brought him out of the house, I didn't think he was gonna make it to the hospital…” He paused, noticing Trubel and then glancing at Sloane and Nick. The nodded slightly and Wu shut his eyes before taking a deep breath. “You’re, um…the criminology student?”

Trubel swallowed. “Uh, yeah…”

“Theresa's been staying with me. She’s my cousin,” Sloane said.

“Cousin? You didn’t mention that before,” Franco said.

“Didn’t want people thinking I was playing favorites having her tag along.”

“Well, good thing you weren't here.”

Hank glanced at Nick again to confirm before sighing. “She was.”

Franco was surprised but Wu looked a bit sick. “Did you see what happened?”

“Yes…”

“She killed the shooter,” Nick said, bracing himself.

“What?” Franco gaped. “The guy's head was cut off!”

“He tried to kill her after he shot the Captain,” Sloane said. “She defended herself and…well, he didn’t expect it. She called 911 for Renard, then booked it to us because she was scared.” Trubel didn’t argue or put up a tough front at the explanation.

Franco glanced at Wu who was nodding slowly. “All right…we better get with Meacham and Pogue on this.” They agreed and followed Wu inside after he nodded to Franco to keep working out there.

Nick looked at Juliette and Trubel. “You stay here. We're gonna talk to them first.”

They didn’t look very happy but nodded as they headed up the front steps. The rug in the front hall was soaked in blood, three obvious patches visible in the brown Persian motif. A tech was working to take pictures and samples. “This is where we found the Captain.” Wu said.

“Where's the shooter?” Nick asked. Wu nodded to stairs and they all grimaced when they saw the decapitated head there.

“The rest of him's upstairs.”

“Have you identified him?” Sloane asked. She knew of course who it was, as did Nick and Hank. Weston Steward’s face was already in their heads, but it was never leaving now.

“Yeah. And it's gonna be a mess, because he was an FBI agent. Name's Weston Steward. He was carrying a Canadian passport with his picture and the name Walter Rathenau, along with a lot of euros. He probably wasn't planning on sticking around.” He glanced around before leaning into them on the stairs. “This is…it’s a thing with you being “Grimms”?”

They glanced at one another before nodding. “Yes.”

“The Captain…”

“He knew. It’s why he was here,” Sloane said.

“Someone from our past…did something to me,” Nick said evasively. “He came to help. Weston Steward was also someone from our past and had a grudge against the captain.”

“…This is pretty dangerous, huh?”

“We’re not trying to pull you in,” Hank said quickly.

“Seems like it’s a bit hard now that I know what I do…Why was Theresa here?”

“She forgot her phone,” Sloane said. “It was just…an accident, being here at the same time as Renard.”

“…There are bullet holes in the guest room door. And I found one of your books. Or…yours?” He asked, looking at Nick.

He nodded. Wu was asking more questions. The most he’d asked since the Aswang incident really. He hoped that was a good sign. “Likely mine…”

“You just…keep that here?”

“Juliette knows,” he said. “And…well, Trubel was reading it. She doesn’t have any of her own.” Wu nodded, understanding that meaning.

“We can’t really say all of what’s going on to others, Wu,” Sloane said. “We don’t know who we can trust here. Is…that going to be a problem?”

He looked thoughtful before wordlessly heading the rest of the way up the steps and to the guest room. Sloane glanced at Nick and Hank, all of them a little worried. Two of their fellow detectives, middle aged Caucasian males with scruffy facial hair, were going over the room. They smiled when they walked in.

Hey, Burkhardt, Hank, Larson,” one—Meacham, Sloane thought, they didn’t really talk that much—said. “Last place we expected to get a case like this.”

“You weren't here when it happened, right?” Pogue asked.

“We were at a wedding,” Nick said, feeling a bit like it should be a little obvious by now.

“And you were with him?”

“Since about 3:00,” Hank confirmed.

“Maid of honor, best man, groomsman,” Sloane said, pointing to each of them.

“You know why Captain Renard was here?” Meacham asked.

They shrugged. “Could have been a case we were working on,” Nick said.

“You know anything about this Weston Steward or why he shot the Captain?”

“No,” Sloane said, shaking her head. Nick glanced at Wu, worried, but he didn’t pipe up.

“Got any idea who killed the shooter? He didn't cut off his own head,” Pogue tried to joke.

“That would be Theresa, my cousin,” Sloane said. They froze and then looked at her. “She was over to grab her phone and hang out for a bit while we were at the wedding. It was self-defense.”

“He tried to attack her after he shot the Captain,” Hank said.

“She called 911, then came and got us,” Nick finished.

They still seemed a bit shocked but then went back to business. “We'll need to talk to her. She got a last name?”

“Rubel. And she's waiting outside,” Nick said.

\------------------------

No one expected the Feds to show up, though really it shouldn’t have been surprising given the shooter’s identity. Special Agent Chavez and Special Agent Rosten spoke to Pogue and Meacham. Trubel wanted to run but Nick stopped her. They came over and had Trubel come in with them and walk them through what happened. Wu followed, glancing back at them but not saying anything. He listened in as she described what happened, it being consistent with what Nick said. Though he knew it wasn’t the whole truth, and he knew that he should be outraged, that wasn’t’ what he felt. He knew the truth—and he believed them. He knew Sloane and Hank and most of all Nick wouldn’t just protect a murderer. What Theresa did must’ve been self-defense. The man shot their captain after all—a captain that apparently knew this world as well.

After the initial shock of the books—which were still on the bed, _shit! —_he’d calmed down. He kept trying to keep the door shut but something kept poking through. Maybe…maybe he just needed to leave it open? He didn’t need to cross but he could keep it open, keep his eyes on what was going on.

_But how long then till you just cross the threshold?_

Meacham and Pogue eventually had to bring Trubel to the station. Sloane was very close to grabbing one of them and possibly hurling them across the street till Nick set a hand on her shoulder. They decided to follow. Juliette opted to stay behind for now and see if and when their house might be turned back over to them.

“…I’m starting to think we should’ve lied,” Sloane said, pacing a little bit around their desks. Nick and Hank had taken off their ties and suit jackets, but she was still relatively put together. Hank had just finished up on the phone trying to track Adalind.

“There would’ve been too much evidence,” Nick sighed as he set a cup of coffee on Hank’s desk. “We can’t just say she was never there.”

“Did I ask for coffee?” Hank asked suddenly.

“What? No.” Nick shrugged, wondering why he was miffed at him being thoughtful as he sipped his own cup.

“Both of you got to take it easy,” he said, looking between he two of them. “You don't want to look nervous.”

“Do I look nervous?” he asked defensively. Sloane shrugged, sitting on top of her desk and crossing her legs, swinging one in agitation.

Hank gave him a level stare and held up two cups. “Second cup of coffee I didn't ask for. Now sit down. Don't drink any more of that,” he said, motioning for him to put his own cup down. “And, uh, Sloane, don’t sit like that…”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re this close to being Sharon Stone in _Basic Instinct_.”

She frowned and looked at Nick who was looking away with a blush. “You’re, uh…legs.”

She looked down and then blushed finely when she realized she was still wearing a dress that was now riding up a bit too high and quickly stood. “Sorry…”

“Anyway…Just found out where Adalind is.” They both turned their attention to him. “She boarded Lufthansa Flight Number 4582 through Frankfurt to Vienna.”

“She's going back to the Royals,” Nick said, frowning.

“Makes sense. She thinks they have her baby,” Sloane sighed.

“They must have made some kind of deal.”

“Yeah, you,” Hank said.

“But she's gonna be very upset when she finds out they don't have the child,” Nick said, moving to take another sip.

“Stop with the coffee, okay?”

Sloane looked thoughtful before standing and opening her desk drawer. She took out a change of clothes, surprising the men. “Be right back, gonna go ahead and change.” She didn’t let them question her as she headed to the women’s room. She couldn’t lock it, but it was clear for the moment, so she pulled her phone from her handbag. She dialed a number and held it to her ear.

“Extension?” a clear voice asked.

“Austria. 062.”

“One moment…” There was a click of lines changing before another voice came on, speaking in German.

“((The unburdened heart.))”

“((Free from transgression,))” she said automatically. Inwardly she rolled her eyes. This cloak and dagger stuff seemed stupid really, but she understood the desire for security. Didn’t help these pass codes seemed very stuff and full of itself—and more embarrassing she thought they were cool when she was young.

“((I bloody my hands)).”

“((So that others do not bleed.))”

“((Authorization?))”

“((Sloane Larson.))”

“((Welcome. How may we assist you))?”

“((There is a woman arriving on flight 4582 from Frankfurt. Adalind Schade. She’s a hexenbeast.))”

“((You wish to put a mark on her))?”

“((In a manner of speaking. I want her watched)).”

“((Watched))?” She had to admit, confusing the voice was rather funny. But she wasn’t in the mood to play a joke.

“((Yes. There’s been a development in a job I’m doing because of her. A spell. I may need her to undo it, so I’d prefer she not be killed. Not right now at least.))”

“((…This is not a usual request)).”

“((I’m aware. I would not normally ask this but it’s very important that we know what she is up to over there, but not be killed until we know how to reverse what she’s done. If she can be captured and brought back to the US, all the better. Whatever means necessary so long as she is alive and able to be questioned.))”

“((Very well. I will pass this along to other Grimms in the area)).”

“((Thank you. I will leave a donation to the library at my earliest convenience for the other party’s Trouble.))”

“((We appreciate your patronage)).”

It was the old, formal song and dance. The Europeans especially preferred the old formal ways. The call ended and Sloane sighed, putting her phone away and quickly changed. She pulled the pins out of her hair. It had been nice to dress up to a party she was actually invited to, but all things come to an end. In more ways than one. She hoped that her phone call would yield something at least.

Coming back out, she was relieved to see Trubel with Nick and Hank. “Hey…they let me go. No charges,” she said, looking relieved.

“As they should,” she said, giving her a hug.

“Can we go home though? I’m really just…tired,” she sighed.

“I don’t blame you,” she agreed.

“Your car is still at the lodge…” Nick pointed out, grimacing.

“Shit…” she groaned.

“Why don’t you stay with us tonight?” Nick offered. “I mean…well, I’m not sure if we’re staying there, but I can take you back in the morning. Plus, safety in numbers?”

Sloane looked at him, wondering if he was feeling defenseless without his Grimm sight. She knew she would be… “Alright, that’d be fine.”

“Well, I’m going to go change and then got to the hospital to check on the captain…” Hank said.

“Keep us updated,” Nick nodded.

Hank nodded back and they all headed for their cars to go to Nick’s house. As they walked through the door, they were all surprised to see Monroe and Rosalee standing there, still in their ceremony clothes.

“How did it go?” Juliette asked.

“No charges were filed, so we're good for now,” Nick said, patting her shoulder comfortingly while looking at Monroe and Rosalee with a mix of worry and guilt. “Monroe, Rosalee, you shouldn't be here.”

“I know. They should be on their honeymoon,” Juliette said, looking at them again.

“You were supposed to leave right after the reception,” Sloane agreed, looking at her phone for the time.

“Guys, honestly... what, are we gonna be hanging out on a beach with what's happening here?” Monroe said, looking at them with the same incredulous look as Rosalee.

“I am so sorry I almost screwed up your wedding,” Trubel said honestly. “I mean, Sloane managed to stop me…I didn't know everybody was...But I needed to get to Nick.”

“Trubel, you did what you had to do for Nick,” Rosalee said gently. “And really, you didn’t ruin it.”

“And what we got to do right now is find Adalind,” Monroe said.

“Well, that's not gonna happen 'cause she's on a flight to Vienna,” Nick sighed.

“She's headed back to Vienna?” Rosalee asked in disbelief.

“I’ve contacted the library in Vienna,” Sloane said. Nick and the others looked at her in surprise. “I told them to keep an eye out for her. And not kill her, preferably, since we might need her.”

“Good…Yeah, we need her alive for now,” Monroe nodded. “How's the Captain doing, anyway?”

“Not good,” Nick sighed. “He might not survive.”

“I had the stuff you needed in my hand…I should've just kept going right to you.”

“It’s not your fault, Trubel…it’s mine,” Sloane sighed.

“What?” Nick asked, confused.

“I tackled Trubel—I wanted to be sure they didn’t realize she was a Grimm but doing it that way, the jar broke. If I hadn’t done that…”

“Sloane, that doesn’t mean that this is your fight. You were just trying to keep Trubel safe and keep the wedding from, well…going to hell,” Nick said.

“That’s all well and good, but charging in headfirst broke our only lead on curing you…”

“Adalind did this, not you or you,” Juliette said, looking at Sloane and Trubel.

“We just have to find out how,” Rosalee sighed.

“She slept with Nick,” Juliette said without any preamble.

“Oh, my God!”

“What?!” Monroe barked.

Sloane just covered her eyes as shit hit the fan. “I really feel like there’s a better way to lead into that,” she muttered.

“It's not what you think,” Nick said quickly, looking at them defensively.

“Well, that's good to hear, because what I'm thinking is pretty damn awful!”

“It wasn't Adalind.”

“Oh, no?” Rosalee asked dubiously.

“Okay, it was Adalind, but she didn't look like Adalind,” he said desperately. “She somehow made herself look just like Juliette.” Juliette looked down as he gestured to her, obviously still not happy about the whole thing.

“Oh, no,” Rosalee said, closing her eyes in a moment of _cringe_.

“That is not a good "oh, no.",” Monroe said.

“Oh, I'm just hoping this isn't some sort of Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester…” she breathed.

“… “The Dammed Twin sister”?” Sloane asked in confusion.

“Yes. It’s an entwining twin curse. They make a mess of things.”

“Oh, so that’s probably what it is,” she said, resigned.

“All right, well, best place to start cleaning up a mess is the spice shop,” Monroe said, grabbing his jacket.

“Nick, we won't let Adalind do this to you, okay?” Rosalee said. Nick nodded and she hugged him before going to Juliette to hug her as well, and finally Sloane.

Nick meanwhile caught Monroe’s arm. “Hey…Look, man...I don't want you screwing up your life because of me,” he said honestly. The fact that Monroe and Rosalee’s wedding had nearly been ruined, and that they were now giving up their honeymoon, was too much.

Monroe however just gave him a patient smile. “Dude, I wouldn't even have a life to screw up if it wasn't for you, okay? So quit complaining.”

They both headed for the door as Trubel stood up. “Hey, maybe we should be going to the trailer. Maybe there's something...”

“No, not tonight, all right?” Juliette interrupted; a bit snappish. It surprised Sloane as well. “We all just need to get some rest.”

“Okay…” Trubel said, glancing at Sloane. “Um…Nick was talking about us staying the night, since Sloane’s car is still at the lodge…”

“If it’s too much, I can call a cab,” Sloane said.

Juliette sighed and shook her head. “It’s fine…Just…you’ll have to be okay with the couch close to a bloody carpet or bullet holes in the door…”

“…I’ve slept in worse. I also know some people who can clean all that.”

“Let’s talk in the morning, please,” she said, turning to head up the stairs. Nick frowned as he watched her go and sighed.

“I’ll…get you something to sleep in.”

They nodded and watched them go up. “Juliette seems more on edge than me…” Trubel said quietly.

“…There’s a breaking point for many keirsheite who are in love with Grimms. I stopped bringing it up because I hoped maybe I was wrong about them. But maybe Juliette is near her limit,” Sloane said. Trubel frowned worriedly at her and then the stairs.

Nick walked into their bedroom, grabbing up some shirts and basketball shorts from his gym drawer. Juliette came out of the bathroom, patting down her face after washing it. “Uh…just getting some sleepwear for the girls.”

“Didn’t think to look in mine?” she asked. He had, but then he’d seen the negligee in the trash and felt a little nauseous. He didn’t answer and Juliette tossed the towel in the hamper and walked over. “Do you feel any different?” He stood, trying to take stock of his feelings. It was all complicated—guilt, betrayal, shame, anger, confusion, shock—and hard to put into words. Juliette looked a bit impatient but there was worry in her voice too. “Can you talk to me?

“I don't know,” he finally said, a little desperate to say anything. “It happened so fast.” He took a breath to try and steady his voice and his nerves. He looked at her with the sincerity of what he felt. “This is, um... really screwed up. That’s the best I have right now. And you know I would never have done that...”

She stared at him. She did know that, really, but there was still that pain there. She couldn’t just turn it off. “You really couldn't tell that Adalind wasn't me?”

He shook his head. “No. No, she looked and sounded exactly like you.”

She huffed a bit. “I guess she wasn't interested in talking.”

Nick winced and looked down, at the clothes in his hands. “…Look, I'll sleep on the couch. Sloane and Trubel can take the guest room.” He turned to go and Juliette reached out and took his arm, softening her voice.

“Hey…We're not doing that again. Just…give them the clothes and come to bed.”

Nick nodded and went downstairs. He was surprised to see Trubel at the bottom, mopping up the blood that was still there. “Hey, we can take care of that…”

Trubel shook her head. “I want to help. Sloane is taking care of the front hall so…”

“What?” He moved down and around to see Sloane rolling up the carpet and wrapping it in saran wrap over the blooding areas. “Hey, I thought you had people to take care of this?”

“I’m too tense. Taking care of it myself will put me more at ease and also hopefully help you and Juliette sleep a little better. Unless you’re sleeping down here?”

“…Were you listening in?” he asked, frowning.

“Not on purpose…” she said honestly. “I mean, sort of…I got worried when you didn’t come down and caught a bit, then tuned out because…I knew I shouldn’t.”

“…Yeah, well…you sure about this?”

“Yeah. I know how to get rid of blood in hardwoods pretty well…this carpet though isn’t going to make it. I can give it to our clean up crew or we can have a funeral pyre tomorrow?”

Nick tried to smile but it wasn’t much of one. “Whatever is best…”

“…Nick…” She set the rug against the wall, making sure it wouldn’t get anything even dirtier. “I…I get why Juliette is upset. But I’m going to be honest, I’m not happy with her.”

Nick frowned. “With her? Sloane, she—”

“Has a right to be upset, I’m not arguing that,” She said, holding up her hand. “At _Adalind._ You…are a victim in this. I don’t like that she’s holding it against you. Someone tricked you into sex, that’s…that’s unforgivable, but it’s not on you.”

“…She’s looking for someone to blame because it hurts,” Nick said quietly. “I get it too.”

“…I just want you to know it’s not your fault…what she did to you…”

“You make it sound like I was raped,” he said with a huff. Sloane didn’t say anything, but the slight wince gave Nick pause. “I…huh…I mean…It wasn’t like that, just…”

“It’s not always like _that_,” she said quietly, a little harshly that made him stand up straighter. “Sometimes it’s being drunk, or tricked, or drugged…sometimes it’s doing it because your partner wants it and you think you have to even when its…not what you want. Sometimes you don’t even realize what happened till later…and even then, you don’t want to admit it. But it’s how you look at it, I guess…”

Nick frowned at how much it sounded like she knew this. “Sloane…?”

She breathed deeply. “Think of it however you want, but don’t think of it as your fault, okay? Adalind is the one that did this, and she counted on doing it fast without a lot of talk for a reason. This doesn’t reflect on you or your feelings for Juliette.”

“…Right,” he nodded. “Thanks. You sure you have this?”

“I’m sure. We already found your cleaning products.”

“Okay. Here,” he set the clothes on top of the couch. “To sleep in.”

“Thanks. Go get some rest. We’ll figure this out.”

Nick nodded and turned to head upstairs. Sloane just sighed and went back to work. She found just what she needed in the garage—Mineral spirits and steel wool. Using these, she scrubbed the hardwoods and rinsed repeatedly until the blood stains were gone from the polished wood. Refinishing them later might not be a bad idea, but for now they wouldn’t smell or stain. It was hard not to think that this was Renard’s blood—a man she considered a sort of friend. It was hard to say exactly given his usual hands-off nature. But he’d been intent to help Nick this time around. She hoped he’d be okay. Trubel did the same treatment to her side, and the walls, and they rolled up the hall rug for disposal as well. Then they scrubbed up and went to bed and they opted to share the guest room, Sloane keeping her knife under the pillow by her. Trubel took a little while to fall asleep but finally did so late into the night.

\-----------------

After they had left the station, Wu and Hank had gone to the hospital to wait on news about Renard. Wu was quiet for much of the time and Hank let him stay that way. He didn’t want to push. By then, Renard had been in surgery for over 3 hours.

“…Hank…” He looked up at his name. “…When you found out about this…this wesen stuff…I mean, knowing about it at all…how do you deal?”

Hank glanced around. The waiting room was relatively empty, but he felt like this was better done quietly. He switched seats to be right by Wu and took a breath. “I didn’t handle it well at first. But…I found out people I already knew were wesen. People I trusted. I loved. And this is a part of them.”

“So, you just weren’t afraid anymore?”

“Ha! No. I’m scared all the damn time,” he said humorlessly. “Wesen that eat people, wesen that hate people and want to see them dead, wesen that just plan will mess you up because they can. Wesen that hate other wesen and will make them explode! Honestly, I see worst stuff helping Nick than I ever did in just plain old homicide.”

Wu looked at him with a confused look. “I fail to hear the terror in your voice…”

He shrugged. “I’m scared but…after finding out there’s good wesen too, I sort of realized it’s not that much different from what I do as a cop. Identify the subject, find their identity, track them down. The ending can get a little hinky—arrest or deal with it directly, so to speak. We try to avoid the second option but…when a thing with a bunch of teeth tries to take a bite out of you, you fight back. And that’s kind of what it comes down to.”

“…I keep trying to run from it…”

“I understand that too,” Hank said quietly. “But…I became a cop to help people—and try to bridge a lot of gaps. Why’d you become one?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh…Well…Heh, I always used to tell everyone it was because of watching _Police Academy _as a kid,” he chuckled. Hank smiled back, remembering that. “But truthfully…I wanted to help people too. When I was a kid, I got super lost one time. I was trying to go visit my uncle and thought I could walk there, not realizing it 10 minutes by car is not the same as walking. I was hungry and tired, and I tried to steal a candy bar from a corner store.”

“What?” Hank fake gasped.

Wu smacked his chest to tell him to shut up. “There was a cop there. He grabbed my hand and I thought I was in so much trouble. I was trying super hard not to cry…then he bought the candy bar and gave it to me, along with a water. He asked what I was doing, and I told the truth and he asked if I knew my phone number or address. I only remembered we lived by the park. So, he put me in the squad car and drove over there and then, on the loudspeaker, said “Drew’s Parents! Drew’s Parents, are you looking for your son?” And then he gave me the speaker so I could call for them. My mom came running around the corner after looking for me, and he got me out of the car, and she was yelling and hugging and…I just remember thinking “I want to make other people this happy by helping them.””

“…That’s really sweet,” Hank said honestly.

“Yeah yeah…thing is, I haven’t lived up to it. I kept trying to just pull away from you guys. But…you guys are my friends and you’re going through a lot of shit right now it seems. And I’m just here thinking about me.”

Hank sighed and set a hand on his shoulder. “We’re not going to force you into his, Wu. But…I don’t think you can ignore it anymore.”

“Yeah…I’m seeing this stuff everywhere. So, it’s either accept it or…ask for a transfer.”

“Whoa…” Hank said, surprised. “I mean…did you?”

“I was considering it…I’m not sure though…The captain, he’s…”

“Uh…he’s a wesen,” Hank said.

“…Damn…Well, I guess that makes a bit of sense. He always tries to give you guys the weird cases.” He sighed and rubbed over his head. “I…don’t want to transfer. But I’m not sure I’m much help to you guys to be honest.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” Hank said. “I mean, it’s been a couple of months since you found out and you’re not shutting down.”

“Yeah…But I—”

“Sergeant?” They both looked up at the doctor that came in and stood up. “Yes, Doctor, hi. Uh, this is Detective Griffin.” He introduced quickly. Hank nodded to her.

“I wish I had better news,” she sighed. “Captain Renard is out of surgery, but, well, he's lost a great deal of blood, and there's a lot of damage. His kidneys may shut down.” They both felt their hearts drop. “It's appropriate that you contact his next of kin and have them get here as soon as possible.”

“Thank you,” they said quietly. The doctor walked off and Wu sighed. “…The captain is wesen…what did this to him? A Grimm?”

“Another wesen, with a gun,” Hank said. “It’s a lot more complicated.”

“…Give me another night or two to really think about this,” he asked quietly.

“Sure man. Just remember, you can know, and we won’t pull you in harder than you want.”

Wu nodded, sighing a little at his own indecision. One foot was through the door he knew. He had to decide which way to step.

\---------------

Early the next morning, Nick woke up to take Sloane and Trubel to get her car. He was shocked to find how clean it all was now. No blood was visible. He left Juliette to sleep since he wasn’t sure how well she slept last night. If it was the same as him, it wasn’t much at all, even after their talk.

Sloane and Trubel dressed quickly after he woke them up and they met him at the car. They were all quiet and tired as they pulled up just after sunrise to the lodge. “We’ll meet up later at the trailer,” Nick said.

“Right. I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Sloane said.

“…Sloane?” She looked at him before exiting the car. “Thanks…for the talk last night.”

She blinked but then smiled softly. “You’re welcome. How you doing?”

“…Better?” he said hesitantly. “Just…talked with Juliette a bit more last night.”

“That’s good. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will…” She got out and Nick sighed. He hadn’t been able to say what they talked about. That maybe, no longer being a Grimm, was a blessing in disguise. Sloane and Trubel were here. They could handle the Grimm cases. Maybe he didn’t need to be cured. That’s what he’d implied, and Juliette hadn’t shot the idea down. Still, something made him hesitate to put it into words. Maybe it was knowing how disappointed Sloane would be. And Trubel.

Getting home, he sighed as he went to go fix coffee. He was debating going back to bed when his phone rang with a new case. One dead, one injured, apparent break-in of some kind. He was just finishing getting the basics when Juliette came downstairs.

“Okay, I can be there in 15 minutes.” He hanged up, watching Juliette get a bottle of juice out of the fridge. “…You get any more sleep last night?”

“Not much,” she said. She sounded tired, but lighter. There wasn’t the bitterness in her face or her tone and it made him feel easier. “You gonna be okay?”

“I don't know,” he said. “It's weird, you know, not being weird anymore, just being a regular cop.”

She sipped the juice and then nodded slowly. “You were really good at it before,” she said, smiling a little.

Nick smiled back. “Well, I guess we'll see if I still am.” He leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips. “See you later.”

“Bye,” she said, watching him go.

Getting to the scene, Sloane and Hank were there too. They all looked pretty beat but were trying to pay attention as Wu spoke. He seemed much more attentive to them than usual too, at least since before the Aswang incident.

“Housekeeper let herself in about 8:30 this morning. House belongs to Dr. Henry Slocombe, works at Sitre Corporation here in Portland.”

“Defense contractor, right?” Hank asked, following him into the house.

“Yeah. Housekeeper discovered the body, called 911. She didn't see anyone entering or leaving. Front door was closed and locked. We checked the premises, no signs of any break-in.”

“We got an I.D. on the vic?” Hank asked, looking at the body of the woman on the floor of the study. Dressed smartly in slacks and a sweater, her hair pulled back in a bun, she’d been lovely but demure looking. Like a teacher.

“Alexandra Hahn, Slocombe's girlfriend.”

“Where's Slocombe?” Nick asked.

“When we first got here, Slocombe was sitting on the stairs, pretty out of it. Couldn't or wouldn't answer any questions, including who he was. He had four wounds on the back of his head. We sent him to the hospital.”

They glanced at one another and then back to him. “Any history of domestic disturbances?” Hank asked.

“No. No record of any. About ten minutes after we got here, the next-door neighbor, Mrs. Sellers, came over. She said she heard a scream, saw Dr. Slocombe drive off fast in his Porsche. She assumed it was an argument until she saw us.”

“He could've been dumping evidence,” Hank said.

“We know what time Slocombe got back?” Nick asked.

“His car's not here, and it's not in the street.”

“Then I doubt he was dumping anything, how’d he get back?” Sloane said.

“Maybe he dumped the car, too, came back in a taxi,” Hank suggested.

She shook her head. “They said he was out of it and had head wounds. I doubt he was in any condition to drive away if it happened during a fight with the vic. And even if he could drive off, a taxi or other driver would notice the blood on him—his own or Ms. Hahn’s. I know cab drivers deal with some strange stuff, but I feel they have standards as far as picking up bloody strangers. If the wounds happened later—well, how?”

“You think there’s a third person,” Nick said, sounding like he agreed.

“I’m thinking that’s a good option if we got one dead and one injured to the point of not being able to know his own name.”

Hank was nodding, thinking it over as well. “We get a license on that car?”

“We did,” Wu said. “I assume you want an A.P.B.?”

“You assume correctly,” Nick said.

“Okay. …Do you guys think this is…_weird_ weird?”

They glanced at one another again. “…It’s possible,” Sloane said. “I’ve known things to a cause disorientation. I’d need to see him to get more information.”

“Better get to the hospital, see if Dr. Slocombe has remembered anything yet,” Hank said.

Once at the hospital, the doctor gave them the run down of Slocombe’s condition: severe trauma, four deep wounds to the back of his head, and a CAT scan and MRI showing severe swelling in the hippocampus and thalamus. These areas were where the brain stored most of its memory. It was no wonder he couldn’t remember his own name really. He looked like a vegetable lying in bed. When asked what made the wounds, she gave them pictures they took, and Sloane grimaced at the deep, bloody grooves on the back of his head.

“Shit…” she murmured. She grabbed up her phone and quickly dialed Trubel as she walked brusquely to the door.

Nick and Hank thanked the doctor and followed. “You know what it is?”

“Yes. It’s bad, but I don’t have all the details I’d like and it’s not in my books. Trubel?” she asked when the phone connected.

“Yeah, hey. What’s up?”

“I want you to grab my car and head for the trailer. I need you to try and find an entry for Gedächtnis Esser. We’ll be there in a couple of hours so don’t rush but…well, find it as quick as you can.”

“Uh, okay…what is that?”

“Look for a face full of tentacles.”

Nick and Hank looked at one another in shock before following her out. They spent a bit more time doing their preliminary police work before heading to the woods mid-afternoon. As they pulled up and headed up, Trubel came out with a sword drawn, surprising them.

“Sorry…I wasn't sure it was you,” she said, relaxing.

“I asked you to come out here,” Sloane huffed. They headed up into the trailer, where several dozen books were open.

“What are you doing?” Hank asked.

“Well, I was looking for a…tentacle head, but I also had some other stuff I wanted to read as I went. I figure I'd better learn as much as I can, now that, you know, everything's changed.” She looked at Nick a little awkwardly. “So, um, why am I looking for this thing?”

“We got a case we can't figure out,” Nick sighed.

“Wesen-related? Oh, sorry. How would you know?” Sloane gave her a look of disbelief while Nick just looked put out and Hank pursed his lips in an “oof” expression. Trubel blanched when she realized why they were all looking at her like that. “I-I didn't mean it like that…”

“It's okay,” Nick sighed.

“Really?”

“No, not really,” he said, but it was meant about the whole situation they could tell. “But we've got to deal with this.” He sighed and looked around before back at her. “Look...I'm glad you're here. We could use your help, not just in looking stuff up.”

Trubel was surprised before a bright smile split her face. “Right! But, um, I did find this thing.” She quickly walked over to one of the books. “This thing sounds…awful.”

“It is,” Sloane said. “What’s it say?”

“Um, looks like some kind of memory eater,” she said, settling down to read. Nick and Hank looked at the drawing and cringed at the tentacles coming off his jaw line.

“That would explain the condition of our victim,” Hank said breezily.

“"It is not known how this Wesen removes the memories of its victims, only that it can,”” she read. “"I surmise it has something to do with the electrical charges in the brain. After an attack the victims are usually diagnosed with advanced dementia. From interviewing some of these unfortunate souls, I can see why. This is one of the most heinous Wesen I have ever encountered. They rob the victims of their very lives by stealing their past and leaving them void of any human connection, devastating to their loved ones, and leaving the victim unable to identify the attack or the attacker. Justice within the confines of the law is, therefore, impossible."”

“Yeesh,” Hank said. “How’d you hear about these things, Sloane?”

“In Japan,” she said. “I met one firsthand with another Grimm there, where they’re known as Kokoro keshigomu. A special version of octopus like wesen. He’d taken the memories of a witness in a murder trial—contract memory erasers. She did most of the leg work on it, but I remember meeting the victim afterward and…feeling a bit scared of it.”

They all nodded slowly then jumped when Nick’s phone rang. “Burkhardt…When? Okay, got it.” He hanged up and looked at the others. “They just picked up a suspect driving the victim's car.”

“It's got to be the Gedachtnis Wesen, right?” Trubel asked.

They all nodded a bit, feeling the same. “All right, we're gonna need you to come with us,” Hank said, pumping her arm with his fist. Trubel smiled excitedly as she followed them out and drove Sloane’s car back towards the precinct.

\-------------------

In Vienna, Adalind’s plane landed and she disembarked. She only had her carry-on, so she bypassed baggage claim and went out to the taxi to head to Kronenburg castle. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding the whole trip. Knowing what she did, why she did it, leaving it all behind…it was worth it to get back to Diana, but it didn’t let her calm down. Now her heart was beating from excitement at being so close to seeing her daughter again.

However, she felt that dim when she got out front and saw no car waiting. She’d gotten some money changed, but she had hoped that she had a ride to the castle ready. She’d let Viktor know she was on her way before leaving Portland, and when she’d arrive. Typical Royals…

“Is everything alright, Miss?” the attendant nearby asked. “Were you expecting a car?”

“Um…yes, I’d thought so,” she said, trying not to let her nervousness. She knew she couldn’t trust Viktor completely, but Sean at least kept his word usually....

“What’s your name? Perhaps we have a reservation? Do you still have your boarding pass?”

She brightened at the idea and pulled out her stub for the boarding pass. “My name is Adalind Schade, I just came from America.”

She nodded, looking at the pass and then through her tablet. “Schade, Schade…Ah I’m afraid I don’t have a car reserved for you.”

“Oh…” she sighed.

“But I have one available. Nicer than a taxi and often cheaper. Plus, no flagging one down.”

“Ah…alright, fine,” she nodded.

“I’ll have a driver come around.” She hit a button and looked around. “Do you not have any other bags?”

“No, I’m traveling light,” she said with a smile. “I’ll probably get a lot while I’m here.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy your stay,” she said as the car pulled up.

“I will, thank you.” She climbed in quickly and the attendant waved as they drove off. Once they were out of sight the smile faded and she pulled unbuttoned the blazer with the fake airport insignia, folding it over her arm and walking to another waiting car.

“Where to, Miss?”

“You know Kronenburg castle?” she asked, setting her bag next to her and buckling up.

He paused, surprised, but nodded. “That I do. It’s on the hill outside of Schattenhügel, about two hours away. Are you on vacation, Miss?” the driver asked Adalind, his German accent bouncing his words in a friendly manner.

“No…it’s likely permanent,” she said, a little smugly.

“Well, just to let you know, Kronenburg Castle is currently still in use by the Von Konigsburg family. They are not doing tours right now.”

“It’s fine, I’m doing…work for them.”

“Oh! Well, I still won’t be able to take you to the door. Security is very tight. But I can get you to the village below easily enough.”

Adalind huffed a bit but nodded. “Alright, that should be fine…”

“I also know a nice café, if you need food? Or drink. It will be a bit of a climb I’m afraid…”

Adalind tried to smile and not lose her patience. “Fine…you can drop me off there. But um, I’m going to rest my eyes for a bit. Long trip.”

He nodded. “Of course. It’s a bit of a drive, I’m going to put up the divider and listen to music, alright?”

“Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out,” she muttered. He glanced in the mirror as she leaned back to fall asleep while he had the divider go up. Once it was all the way up it was soundproof, and he hit dial on his cellphone.

“Is there a problem already, Wes?” the woman on the other line asked. “We’re right behind you.”

“No problem, but a concern…She is going to Kronenburg castle. Invited she says.”

“…A hexenbeast working the royals is never a good sign,” she said.

“Are you sure it’s her?”

“I didn’t see her woge, but she fits the name and ticket. I understand the American Grimm wants her alive…”

“You sound hesitant? You disagree with the request?”

“Capturing things alive is a pain. And she wants to meet with the royals, and they may be expecting her and looking for her. Ugh, I thought this would be a simple library request…” She groaned.

“I’m following your lead, Rachael,” the man reminded her. “You’re the Grimm here.”

“…Well, I think we’d do better just to kill her,” she finally said.

“Are you sure? Might void the reward.”

“They didn’t say why the American wanted her. Honestly, taking a Hexenbeast alive is not worth the trouble, but I can’t let her be running around. Where are you planning to drop her off?”

“Café Goldrute in the village.”

“Good. Take the long way, I’ll meet you there and take care of the rest.”

\---------------

“I met Henry Slocombe through a mutual friend, Danny Rivera,” Lawrence Anderson said calmly. He was a thin, reedy man with sandy blond hair and high cheekbones. He’d come in peacefully, hadn’t kicked up a fuss, and had been placed in interrogation with no complaints. Now he was answering the question with aplomb that irked them all. “I think it was 2007.”

“When was the last time you saw Dr. Slocombe?” Hank asked.

“Last night. His girlfriend, Alexandra, had just returned early from a trip. They got into a bit of a fight, and I began to feel like a third wheel, so I left. I think it was a little bit after 7:00. He lent me his car so I could check into a hotel.”

_Convenient explanation…_ Sloane thought.

“What hotel?”

“The Lucia, on Broadway. I checked out this morning and was in the process of returning his Porsche when I got pulled in here. Can you tell me what this is about?”

_Should’ve asked that earlier. You’re too calm._

“Dr. Slocombe was attacked last night, and Alexandra was murdered,” Hank said.

Though he tried to look shocked and his voice had emotion to it, Sloane and Nick both noted his expression seemed very neutral overall. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God! This... this is terrible. T-They're both dead?”

“Dr. Slocombe's still alive. He's in the hospital.” Hank’s calm was understandable, he was at work. Anderson was already calming down and so it seemed the outrage cooled rather quickly for finding out his “friend” was dead.

“This is unbelievable. Do you have any idea who did it?”

“We were hoping you might.”

He made a show of “realizing”, working his jaw and looking annoyed but amused. “Now I understand why I'm here…I must be a suspect. How can I help?” He asked. It sounded all very robotic.

“We need you to write down everything you remember about last night.” Hank slid a paper pad and pen over to him.

“Of course.” He picked up the pen to start writing and Hank stood to walk with his partners out of the room. “You... you said that... that Henry is in the hospital.” They paused and looked back. “Is he okay?”

“The injury was pretty traumatic. We've been unable to talk to him,” Sloane said.

“I'd like to see him.”

_I bet you would_. “We can see about that later.”

“Am I under arrest?” he asked, and his tone sounded like a genuine inquiry but there was a hint of something in there—something like “_I know you have nothing to hold me with_”. It irked them all.

“No, sir,” Hank managed. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

The headed to the observation room to talk, watching him write down the “events” of last night. “You pick up anything?”

“I didn’t. Not that that means anything,” Nick sighed bitterly.

“I didn’t see anything either,” Sloane said.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Hank said. “The car wasn't reported stolen.”

“Hard to do that when you’ve just had your brain slurped like a smoothie,” she said.

“Thanks for that image…” Nick said blithely. “Well, even if he's lying, it's gonna be hard to tie him to the crime without any fingerprints or any witnesses that remember him. We don't even have a motive!”

“…The one in Japan was contracted to keep a witness from testifying. Maybe he was contracted to…I don’t know, get something from Slocombe’s brain.”

Nick was nodding. “It seems there's only one kind of Wesen that can make those kinds of marks, and if that's not him, we are wasting our time.”

“Only one way to find out,” Hank sighed.

“I’m pretty sure you frown on me roughing up suspects here…”

“Not you,” Hank said with an eyeroll, though he was smiling at her.

“Yeah. Let's give him some Trubel.”

They smiled and Sloane pulled out her phone to text her while they went to let Anderson go. The Porsche would stay as evidence of course, but he said he understood. Wu took him to get his personal belongings while they went outside to wait.

Anderson left the precinct with his bag, taking long strides out and across the street to the park. As he entered under the trees, Trubel—wearing a hoodie and sunglasses—roughly bumped into him and tried to grab his back. Anderson gripped it tighter as she pulled hard and he growled. “What the hell are you doing?!” He got in her face and woged. Now, because of the sunglasses he didn’t see her eyes change—but she saw him. Backing away, she let go and ran as if scared. Anderson woged back, panting and resisting giving chase. “You're right outside a police station! You idiot.” He huffed and then straightened his suit before heading back down the path.

Trubel ran a block over as she took off the sunglasses and hoodie, quickly getting to their police sedan and climbing in the back with Sloane. “It's him.”

“The Gedachtnis Esser?” Nick confirmed.

“Yeah, he woged. Got to say... seriously ugly in real life,” she panted.

“They always are,” Sloane said, handing her a water.

“All right, you better stay with him,” Hank said.

“You have your phone,” Nick asked.

“Yep.”

“Make sure it's turned on.”

“It is. I got this,” she said, grabbing her leather jacket.

“Be careful.”

“You’re sounding like a dad,” Sloane said, amused. Nick rolled his eyes and Trubel did as well before heading back out to follow Anderson as he walked across the street.

The three detectives found a place to hang out and wait, Hank going to get them some drinks while Sloane and Nick leaned against the front of the car while they waited. He came back with coffee, handing it out. “Sooo…How's Juliette handling this?”

Nick sighed as he took the coffee. “She's trying not to blame me.”

“You ought to try doing the same thing,” Hank said.

“See, he agrees with me,” Sloane said. Nick didn’t argue but he didn’t look like he agreed still. Sloane’s phone rang and she pulled it out, setting it to speaker.

“Got something, Trubel?”

“Octopus head is checking into the Multnomah hotel,” she said.

“We're on our way.”

They quickly piled back into the car and drove over, meeting Trubel out front as she came jogging out.

“Okay, he checked into room 402,” she said.

“How'd you find that out?” Hank asked.

“…You're kidding, right?” she scoffed. Hank frowned but Sloane knocked her shoulder.

“Hey, don’t get smart,” Sloane said. “But good job.”

Nick nodded. “We know he's the guy we're after, but now we're going to need some background on him to see how he connects with the victims. All we got is he can steal peoples' memories.”

“And their cars,” Hank added.

Trubel frowned. “Why don't we just go in there and take him down right now?”

“Because we don't have any evidence or motive that ties him to the crime,” Nick said.

“Yeah, I wasn't talking about arresting him,” she said.

Nick frowned, glancing at Sloane. She sighed and looked at Trubel. “One—How? A gun is too loud, it’ll alert the whole damn floor. He’s going to struggle whatever we do, and it’ll likely have to involve a blade. There’s no clean method currently, and all the others are going to attract attention in broad daylight. Two—if we could kill him, what then? Leave his body to be found? We’d have crime techs all over the scene, if they found a hint of us there we’re screwed. I’m in our system now, I can’t just go in there and neither can you considering you were just investigated. Don’t think they’ll buy self-defense again. Get his body out? How do we do that without being seen in one of the busiest spots downtown both day and night? What then? My preferred method takes time and fire and we’d have to get him out to the woods for that. And we can’t buy time making it look like he’s gone on a trip—he’s already in a hotel. We don’t have Renard here to help clean things up either. So, suggestions?”

“…No, I get what you mean,” she said, hunkering down a bit as she went over all variables.

“Just keep an eye on him,” Hank said. “Let us know if he moves and stick around the hotel.”

“And nothing more,” Nick added sternly.

“All right, yes, I get it…Hey, you got any money for lunch?”

The adults rolled their eyes, but Hank was the first to grab his wallet and hand her a twenty. “Make it last.”

“Thank you!” she smiled, grabbing it up and heading for the hotel.

“Hey, I need a receipt!”

She laughed, turning and waving the money. “All right.”

Nick sighed as he watched her go and Sloane nudged him. “She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she'll be fine. Let's go,” Hank said.

\-------------------

Adalind had dozed for a bit before she felt the car come to a stop and she sighed and woke up. The partition came down and the driver looked back. “Miss? We’ve arrived.”

“Oh, great,” she said, sitting up.

“Would you prefer cash or card?”

“Cash. Here, keep the change,” she said, handing him a hand full of bills.

“Thank you. Oh, I do recommend the café. They have lovely teas and sandwiches.”

Adalind smiled tightly as she climbed out. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She closed the door and then looked around. She could see the castle looming up on the hill and groaned. Climbing that was going to be a pain in the ass…She wanted to get up to see Diana as soon as possible though. Her stomach growled and she hesitated, looking at the Goldrute café. Viktor could get her food, but she’d still have to hike all the way up hungry and thirsty. Sighing, she adjusted the strap on her bag and headed inside. It was a charming place, like an updated tavern, with things done in golds and dark browns to play with the “goldenrod” theme of its name. She sat down at the bar, putting her bag down by her side.

“((Welcome! How can I help you, miss))?” the waitress behind the bar said.

“Ah…I’m a tiny bit rusty on my German,” she said.

“Oh, a traveler! Well, welcome to Goldrute. Can I get you something?”

“Ah…what would you recommend?”

“Well, our pomegranate tea is popular. And with that I usually recommend our Cranberry Turkey sandwich. It’s fresh turkey with swiss and a little mayo on—”

“It sounds fine, I’ll have those. Please,” she added with a smile.

The waitress nodded and went punched in the order. Adalind sighed, looking around idly. She had no idea someone was watching her from outside the café. She wouldn’t recognize her really; she’d barely registered the face of the woman at the airport and now she was wearing glasses and a blonde wig over her dark hair and a dowdy green sweater. Standing, Rachael made her way through as if going to the bathroom but paused instead at the edge of the bar where she was fixing Adalind’s tea. “((Pardon me, miss))?”

“((Yes))?”

“((I think I left my card here earlier, have you seen it))?”

“((Ah, no…))”

“((Shit…I don’t have any cash. Are you sure))?”

She sighed but smiled. “((Let me check with my manager, we would have locked it in the office if we found it.))”

“((Thank you, I appreciate it! The sooner, the better—I need to take a cab home.))”

She nodded and left the tea to quickly go talk to the manager. Rachael watched her go and then subtly pulled a tiny bottle out of her purse. She pretended to lean over on the counter unscrewed the bottle, letting the contents pour into the tea. It was an old concoction—Made from Witchweed, Chinaberry, Juniper, and other carefully curated herbs and plants that together made a poison for hexenbeasts. She hoped the pomegranate tea would hide the bitter flavor, but even a little bit would at least make her sick.

She tucked the bottle back into her sleeve just as the waitress came back. “((I’m sorry, we haven’t found a card…))”

“((No, I’m sorry! It was in my pocket!))” She laughed and held up a card from her pocket. “((I almost never leave put it there, I’m so embarrassed. I hope you have a good evening.))”

“((You too)),” she smiled, waving as Rachael turned to go and she set the pomegranate tea in front of Adalind.

Adalind sighed as she picked it up to take a deep drink and frowned at the unexpectedly acrid taste. She swallowed because she had nowhere to spit but set it down. “Ugh…”

“Is something wrong?” the waitress asked, frowning.

“Yeah, this tea is rancid…I think something is off with your machine,” she said.

She frowned but picked it up. “We don’t really use them other than to keep the tea warm, but I’m sorry about that. Would you like something else or a water?”

“Water, please, and my sandwich.” She nodded, getting her a glass of ice-water and the sandwich quickly. Adalind inhaled her food and then paid quickly so she could head out and start up the hill to the castle. As she climbed, she felt a cramping sensation in her stomach and took a moment to catch her breath. Shaking her head, she focused on the path and pressed on. After almost twenty minutes of climbing and feeling the cramps get worse, she got up to the gate. It was shut and she looked around before finding a buzzer and pressing the button. She patted lightly at her face, feeling a clammy sweat gathering over her forehead. I can’t be getting sick, can I? No, I can’t be. They might not let me see Diana if I’m sick…

A guard came down, looking at her in confusion. “…Yes?”

She stood up straight, pulling herself together. “My name is Adalind Schade. I’m here to see Viktor Von Konigburg.”

“…You cannot just…walk up here,” He said in broken English.

“I know Viktor,” she said primly. “He has my daughter. I’ve done what he asked, so I want to see her. And you better get him to let me in now.”

The man hesitated but then sighed and pulled out his phone. “Wait.” He walked away, dialing someone and Adalind huffed at being made to stand on the other side of the gate. She was feeling a bit shaky but held on tightly to the iron gate. The cramping wasn’t going away either and in fact was getting worse.

It took a few moments, but Viktor came down to the gate, followed by his personal bodyguard and right hand, Rispoli. Adalind quite frankly hated seeing them. It was hard not to hate the men who had taken her daughter. She blamed Sean a great deal, but she wasn’t stupid—she knew Viktor pushed exactly the buttons he needed to on him to do it. He was a master puppeteer.

“Adalind, how nice to see you again,” he said. The tone was overly affectionate, and it made her skin crawl. “You bring good news, I hope.”

She took a deep breath. “I did it. I did what you asked.”

“You took the Grimm's powers,” he said, eager now.

“I did.” A part of her felt guilty. She knew, despite how she hated him, Nick wasn’t a bad person. Neither was Juliette. The fact they still helped her despite what she’d done showed that. Though only a monster would turn aside a baby in need of help. But she’d grown up around plenty of those. Arguably, she was one of those. But if she was a monster, she was a monster that wanted her baby back!

“We will need confirmation that what you did to Mr. Burkhardt actually succeeded.”

Adalind gaped at him. “It worked,” she said, desperation climbing. “I swear it worked!”

“Well, there's a bit of conflicting information,” Viktor said breezily. “You see, one of our operatives had his head lopped off at Mr. Burkhardt's house. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

Adalind’s eyes widened and she shook her head slowly. “No…”

“No,” he agreed, looking remorseful.

“But I did what I had to do. I did what you wanted me to do,” she reiterated, gripping the gate tighter. Her stomach was hurting a lot more now and she felt nauseous. Something wasn’t right but she closed her eyes against the pain. “Please let me in. Please, I need to see my baby.”

Viktor frowned at her begging and the sheen over her face. Begging was certainly enjoyable, but he didn’t want her losing herself at his front gate. He looked at Rispolli. “What do you think?”

The taller man looked at her as well before shrugging, the light glinting off his shaved head. “I doubt she would've come all this way without attempting to accomplish what you asked. I'll get confirmation.”

Adalind looked between them but focused back on the prince with almost desperation on her face. “Please, Viktor. I need my baby.”

He sighed but then nodded to the guard. “All right open the gates. Is the west wing ready?” Adalind pushed her way through quickly the moment the door was open.

“I'll make sure it is,” Rispoli said.

“You can stay there,” Viktor said, offering his arm. She took it hesitantly, shaking just slightly. ‘You're going to be with us for quite some time.”

“Thank you, Viktor,” she said in relief. “How is she?”

“Wonderful,” he said with a pleasant smile. Really, that should’ve been her first clue. But as tired, sore, and empty as she felt she was trying to ignore the signs. “Have you eaten? You seem…off.”

“I had something on the way here…I’m just nervous. I haven’t seen her in so long it feels,” she said, following him through the door into the great hall. She looked around at all the fine furniture and banners and other revelry. Admittedly, raising Diana like a princess sounded nice in a way. “What about Diana? Has she gained any weight? She's been eating okay, hasn't she?”

“Oh, she has quite an appetite,” he said, leading her down a side hall instead of up like she expected. She followed, confused. They started heading down a winding flight of stairs.

“Who's taking care of her?”

“We all are. She's very important, and it's rather nice having her here. She's brightened up the whole castle.” He gestured at the gloom of the hall they were going down. It was illuminated only by old, shoddy lights where torches once were, and weak moonlight filtering through the grates in the ceiling. It must’ve rained recently because several were dripping and made the stone slick. “I do wish I could've seen the look on Mr. Burkhardt's face when he realized he'd slept with you,” he added suddenly, chuckling. He looked at her with a lascivious glint that made her shift. She doubted she looked very appealing at the moment if how she felt was any indication. It was sheer willpower that was keeping her on her feet and focused. “How was it, by the way?”

She flushed even more than she was already with shame but also pride as she straightened her back with a glare. “I did what I had to do. I did it for my baby. It wasn't fun.”

“That's a shame,” he said with disappointment. “It's not every day a Grimm shags a hexenbeast. Or was it the other way around?” he asked with that same smile that made her skin crawl.

Adalind sighed and looked away. “Where are we? Why are we down here?”

“This is the most secure part of the castle,” Rispolli said. “No one can get your child here.”

She felt there was something wrong with that—if she was as valuable as Viktor said to them, they wouldn’t put her in a dank, wet, musty place like this. She’d get sick too easily.

“By the by, did you know Sean Renard is in hospital?” Viktor asked suddenly, making her brain halt.

“What happened?”

“He was tragically shot at Mr. Burkhardt's home.”

“Nick shot him?” she asked in disbelief.

“Actually, no.” He didn’t elaborate but she had a feeling what he meant. It was a veiled threat, that he could take care of Sean from the other side of the world and he could do worse to someone right in front of him.

“How is he?” she asked slowly.

He looked down with an expression of remorse. “Hanging on by a thread.” He nodded to the guard who unlocked the door in front of them at the end of the hall. Holding out an arm, he guided Adalind towards the door. “I know how close you and Sean were…Right this way, dear.” Adalind’s eyes barely registered the empty room in the dark before she felt Viktor’s hand dig into her back and suddenly pushed her forward hard as the guard grabbed her bag. She gasped and stumbled, landing on the floor. She was really shaking now but her adrenaline wound up a notch as she heard the door slam shut and lock. Standing, she lurched up and grabbed the window grate, pulling herself up to her feet to glare at Viktor hard enough death should’ve come for him.

“Where's my baby?” she growled.

Viktor dropped the sweet smile and glared at her right back in disdain. “I don't have your baby,” he spat. “It was taken from me by the resistance, the very people who helped you escape from me. Now, don't you regret that decision?”

Adalind felt her heart drop. The pain her stomach was giving her was nothing compared to this pain and she felt tears well in her eyes. All of it was for nothing. Viktor had tricked her—the spell, sleeping with Nick, running from those who might’ve helped her for real, it was all for nothing. She opened her mouth to scream and woged as she did, trying to pull at the bars. Once she reached Viktor, she’d tear him apart with her bare hands!

Viktor wasn’t intimidated or impressed though. “You can huff and puff all you want. You're not going to blow this house down.”

“Viktor!” she shouted as she unwoged. The pain in her heart and her body were merging and she was close to passing out it felt.

“It was built for hexenbeasts.”

“Viktor, don't do this!” she sobbed. He turned, unaffected. “Viktor! You bastard! You can't do this! I did what you wanted me to do!” She gave a strangled shout, slowly dropping to her knees.

“…She appears to be sick,” Rispolli said.

“Poisoned, more likely,” Viktor said, bored.

“Do you care if she lives?”

“Hmmm…I suppose she’s more useful alive…Get a doctor and we’ll see what we can do for her. If there’s nothing to be done, we’ll figure out plan B. Or maybe it’s C now…”

\--------------------

They headed back to the precinct to sit and do some research. They were having trouble finding anything on Lawrence Anderson till Nick found he worked for Satellite Defense Technologies. Calling them up, they were shocked to find that the real Lawrence Anderson had been found with four wounds in his head a month ago and was in the hospital.

“Was he able to tell anybody what happened?” Nick asked.

“No, that's the real sad part,” his supervisor said over the phone. “It's like he's suffering from dementia. He was one of the smartest men I've ever met. MIT, Harvard, military intelligence...”

Hank straightened in his chair. “He was involved with military intelligence?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, “top security clearance, intimately involved with some pretty important government programs. Now he doesn't even recognize his own daughter.”

“Can we talk to her?” Nick asked.

“Sure. I'm gonna put you on hold while I get her number.” The line went quiet and Nick blew out a breath.

“So, the guy we're following isn't Lawrence Anderson…”

“This guy's not just stealing memories, he’s stealing identities,” Sloane said.

“Maybe worse than that, he's stealing secrets. Both Anderson and Slocombe were involved with military defense,” Hank said.

“So, he's a wesen spy?” Nick asked, surprised.

“Not too surprising. It’s a valuable method to gain information I’m sure,” Sloane said.

“And there's no way to prove what he's stealing, 'cause it's all in his head, which means the CIA, or the NSA will never know the extent of what he's got or what they've lost.”

“How do you explain that to the feds?” Nick huffed.

Hank looked up and grimaced. “I don't know, but we may get a chance to try. Here's Chavez.” Indeed, the FBI agent was striding her way towards their desks.

Nick sighed and muttered, “Now what?”

“Burkhardt, got a few minutes?” She asked. Nick turned to face her, arching his eyebrow. “We need to talk. Someplace private.”

Nick glanced at his partners and they nodded that they had things covered. “All right…” He stood and followed her out.

Just after he left Sloane’s phone buzzed and she picked it up. “Trubel?”

“Hey. Anderson left the hotel, he's on a bus,” she said quietly.

Sloane frowned. “And where are you?”

“I'm with him, also on the bus. Look, he dyed his hair, and he's wearing glasses,” she said quickly. “I might not have recognized him if he didn't come out of 402.”

“You were supposed to stay at the hotel,” she reminded her.

“I got this; I’m not planning on confronting him if I don’t need to. Oh, he's getting off at Sandy and 66th,” she said, and Sloane could tell she was getting up as well.

“Now, listen, this guy is dangerous. Keep your distance and check in every 15 minutes by text.”

“Got it,” she said, hanging up before Sloane could continue. Sloane frowned a little in frustration with her but sighed. “Is it too late for the rebellious teen phase for her?”

“Now who’s sounding like a parent?” Hank chuckled.

“Can you at least say big sister, because she is like 20,” Sloane said.

Hank smiled and made a few calls again regarding the real Anderson and his credentials. By the time Nick got back they were getting ready to go out again. “How'd it go with the FBI?” Hank asked.

“I don't know. It wasn't about Anderson,” Nick said, looking confused. “It seemed like there was something going on. I'm not sure what.”

“Well, we got somethings. Slocombe has top security clearance just like Lawrence Anderson,” Hank said, moving with him and Sloane to the door.

“And Trubel called. Our Lawrence has left the hotel, and he changed his appearance,” Sloane said.

Nick paused and then frowned in annoyance. “She's following him.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Yup.”

“She was supposed to...”

“We all know what she was supposed to do,” Hank sighed.

When they got to the car, Nick looked at Sloane. “Call Trubel back for an update.”

She nodded, agreeing it was about time. Trubel picked up quickly enough but spoke hurriedly as she tried to keep Lawrence in sight. “Hey, guys.”

“Where are you?” Nick asked.

“I'm still following him. He's going after someone else.”

“How do you know that?” Sloane asked.

She turned away for a moment to hide behind a large crepe myrtle bush when he seemed to slow his pace. “'Cause I heard him making a phone call. He said he was gonna tell somebody about an accident and a murder.”

They glanced at one another, having a feeling he was trying to get close to someone else with more information to drain. “Trubel, listen,” Nick said. “We don't know who this guy is. I do not want you getting close to him.”

Trubel looked back up the street and felt her heart skip when she didn’t see Lawrence. “Damn it! I lost him…”

Nick tried not to lose his patience that she wasn’t listening, and Sloane felt his frustration. “Tell me exactly where you are.”

“Uh…65th and Alameda,” she said, spotting the sign.

“Stay put. We're on our way.” Trubel hanged up then and Nick huffed a bit.

“I think she feels she needs to pick up the slack being down a Grimm,” Sloane sighed. Nick didn’t look happy at that hypothesis and she bit her tongue. “Sorry…”

“It’s…fine,” he said. They drove quickly to the corner Trubel identified, only to find it deserted. “This is where Trubel said she'd be,” he said, looking ready to chew her out. “Where the hell is she?”

“This is why I don't have kids,” Hank said.

“See why I preferred big sister?” Sloane said, taking out her phone to dial Trubel. She frowned when it kept ringing. “She's not answering…”

“Maybe she's still following him,” Nick said.

“What if he made her?” Hank asked.

Nick groaned a bit, pulling at his hair. “I can't keep dragging her into things like this…She's gonna get hurt!”

“Nick, she’s a Grimm,” Sloane said seriously. “She’s going to get dragged into this whether she likes it or not. It’s better to prepare her.”

“All right, slow down,” Hank said before they argued. “We go back to the hotel, see if we can find something in his room to let us know where he is. It’s not far.”

Sloane took a breath, looking around. “…You guys go. I’m going to see if I can find anything here.”

“Sloane, are you sure?” Nick asked.

“Nick, I have the better chance of finding Lawrence and Trubel right now this way. If you find something first, you can call me and I’ll already be in the area if he’s still here.”

“She makes a good point,” Hank said. “Plus, you can’t say _she_ can’t take care of herself.”

Nick sighed and then looked at her. “Be careful.”

“Aren’t I always? Don’t answer that,” she said, starting down the sidewalk while they got back into the car. Sloane looked around slowly and then closed her eyes, focusing her other senses as she walked. _Quiet neighborhood street…what’s out of place? Lawnmower checks out. Birds, dogs, etc. C’mon, something…_

It was as she doubled back she heard it—the sound of something glass breaking from a house just up ahead. The sound of a fight. She rushed up to the house, looking at the front door. Locked, no one in sight. But through a side window she saw it—the Gedächtnis Esser hovering over Trubel, its tentacles extended to her head. Her arms were bound behind her back and they were among the remains of a glass coffee table. Another man was in a room behind them, prone on the floor.

It was like a switch in Sloane’s brain. One she tried not to flip too often but seeing Trubel at that thing’s mercy did it in a way that her vision focused in only on him. She went back to the door and booted it open hard enough it nearly came off it’s hinges, the glass inserts shattering. Going over, she grabbed the scaly, slimy head with her bare hand and squeezed. He yelled out the tentacles retracted, but he was also convulsing as he dewoged with a terrified look. “Grimm…SHE’S A GRIMM!”

Sloane didn’t have a snappy retort. She didn’t care what he’d seen in Trubel’s memories. Instead she smashed his face into the wall hard enough he’d be tasting blood. And she _pushed._ He screamed out again, this time in pain from the memories and his body. She was intending to squeeze his head until either it or the wall cracked.

“Sloane, stop!” Nick rushed over and grabbed her hand and waist, pulling her back.

“Let go,” she said. The monotone, emotionless way she said it made his hair stand on end.

“No. We’re not killing him.”

“He hurt Trubel,” she said. Hank was with her, propping her up while she tried to focus her glassy eyes.

Nick hesitated. He couldn’t blame the moment of rage. Heck, he’d probably kill the man too. But he looked at her. “Trubel…do you know who I am?”

Trubel looked at him and sighed. “Yes, Nick…I know who you are. My head hurts…”

Sloane relaxed just slightly hearing Trubel talk and so did he. “We need to check on her,” he said to Sloane. She knew full well he could do that on his own but finally sighed and released Lawrence. He crumpled to the ground, crying and with a bloody nose. But rather than moaning in pain he sounded terrified, holding his head. “No…make it stop…she’s a Grimm, I didn’t…I don’t want these memories…”

“…Tough shit,” Sloane muttered. She went over to help with Trubel while Hank went to talk to the other man that was attacked—the homeowner who worked with Slacombe apparently. “Trubel?”

“Hey Sloane…” she groaned. “I…messed up again…”

“Yeah…a bit,” she sighed. She grabbed a rag nearby and pressed it to the back of her skull. Trubel winced.

“Ow, hey, what are you doing?”

“You’re bleeding,” Nick said, torn between worry, relief, and anger that she’d put herself in danger again.

“Remember why you’re here?” Sloane asked.

“Because I’m a Grimm…”

Sloane smiled and nodded. “Good answer…”

Nick wasn’t sure he agreed but Trubel smiled.

\-------------------

The doctor came a while later despite being in the castle itself—royals didn’t wait for house calls after all. Mostly this was waiting for Adalind to be too weak to do anything once they entered the room. She had collapsed in the middle, sweating and shaking.

“Well?” Rispolli asked. Viktor hadn’t come with him. Better safe than sorry.

“She’s been poisoned,” the doctor said.

“Poison works on hexenbeasts?” he asked in surprise.

“Specific kinds yes. These are generally known to other hexenbeasts, or to Grimms potentially. I know one family was known for finding poisons for many wesen. Strangely their ingredients we use as well. Especially for girls who have…gotten themselves in trouble.”

“Fascinating,” he said blandly. “Can you keep her alive?”

“Is that what Viktor wants?”

“He thinks she still might have some use,” Rispolli said.

“Last I heard she wants his head more than the resistance does,” the woman said.

“News travels fast. But she’ll calm down once she realizes we’re her best hope of her freedom, and of seeing her daughter again.”

She hummed and opened her bag. “Well, lucky for her, I don’t think she got a fatal dose. A nicer room would help, but I can at least break the fever here and as long as she’s strong, with a little rest she should be fine.” She pulled out a syringe and filled it with an amber colored liquid from a bottle.

“Oh, her will is strong, we don’t doubt that. But she needs to be alive to break it.”

The doctor didn’t say anything as she slipped the needle into her arm, giving her the dose. Adalind whined, trying to focus her eyes. “There now. Rest up, pet,” the doctor said. “And pray you don’t go insane in here!”

\-----------------

They identified their memory thief finally as Timothy Croftin Perkal, a Canadian wanted in Canada, U.S., and Great Britain for espionage. The man was in the holding cell pending being picked up by whoever won out of the appropriate departments. He kept screaming through the night and the consensus was he’d lost his mind somehow. Sloane supposed the memories of a Grimm were too much for him.

They got word then that Renard was awake, alert and able to take visitors, shockingly enough. They decided to go visit after they clocked out, walking in to see him looking out the window at the night sky pensively.

“Hey, Captain,” Nick said.

Renard looked over and then smiled a bit. “It's good to see you guys.”

“You too. You look pretty good for a guy who's been through what you've been through,” Hank said.

“How do you feel though?” Sloane asked.

“Better than I was feeling,” he sighed. He looked up at Nick. “Listen, Nick, did you get what I brought to your house for you?”

Nick felt his stomach drop. Renard was lying in bed, shot up and after nearly dying, and he was thinking about Nick getting that potion? Why? Why did he try that hard? It made a knot of guilt in his gut for not trusting him so often before. He shook his head slowly, swallowing. “No, it's gone. I…I'm not a Grimm anymore.”

Renard’s eyes widened and he looked at Sloane. “It’s true…I’m fine, but whatever she did…”

“Oh, Nick. I'm sorry,” Renard said sincerely. “I tried…”

“I know,” Nick nodded. “We can talk about this when you're feeling a little stronger.”

“I should've known what Adalind was up to,” he sighed, looking tired and put out. “I'm just glad the young lady staying at your house knew how to handle a machete. I owe her.”

Nick nodded awkwardly, debating if he should say how Trubel got so good at beheading people.

“Well, I'm just glad you're still here,” Hank said.

“So am I.” They all looked up in surprise as a very beautiful woman walked in. She had long, slightly wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes with strong, handsome bone structure. She was dressed fashionably in dark jeans, a black flowing shirt and a short black leather duster. All three detectives were surprised but curious as she walked over, taking Renard’s hand gently.

Renard smiled. “Detectives Burkhardt, Larson and Griffin, this is Elizabeth Lascelles. My mother.”

Their heads whipped up back to her and she smiled demurely at their slack jaws.

“Oh.”

“Hi?”

“_Mother?_” Sloane asked incredulously, making Renard smile.

“She's had a little work done…”

Elizabeth smiled at them with amusement. “You must be some of Sean’s friends?”

“Uh…well, yeah,” Hank nodded. “He’s also our captain.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I just wanted to come and say goodnight. Visiting hours are almost over. I’ll be back tomorrow, Sean.”

“Alright,” he nodded. She smiled and kissed his temple before nodding to them and heading out again.

“…So…your mom, she would be…” Sloane said slowly.

“In her sixties?” Renard asked.

“I was going to say a hexenbeast,” she said.

“Ah…yes, that’s true. But she’s not as bad as most. Honestly, I’ve done much worse than her…” he sighed.

They looked at one another before back at him. “Well…hey, you tried to save Nick. That counts for something,” Hank said.

“Yeah…thanks, Captain,” Nick said.

Renard smiled and then sighed. “I should get some rest…but I’ll talk to my mother. She may be a valuable resource as far as finding out what Adalind did exactly and how to reverse it.”

Nick’s smile faltered but he nodded. “Okay…thanks.”

“Rest up. Someone was at the precinct was talking about a candlelight vigil for you. Which I thought you did if someone died…” Sloane said.

“Don’t jinx me,” Renard chuckled. “I already have a long road of physical therapy ahead of me…”

“Well, you’ll be known as super cop when you get back,” Hank smiled.

“Super cop that got shot and had to be saved by a girl with a machete…” he said tiredly.

“We’ll head out. Get some rest,” Nick said.

He nodded and they turned to walk out and go their separate ways.

\---------------------

It was morning when Adalind woke up to the sound of something opening and closing. Blearily she looked over and saw it was the slot in the door where a bowl of gruel was slid through. Pushing herself up with a groan, she shakily crawled over, but the footsteps were already leading away from the door. She didn’t feel like she was dying anymore, but she was still sore and lethargic. Looking at the bowl, a mealy white gruel was in it. She sneered in disgust and flung it away weakly across the floor. Groaning, she slid back down the wall. She felt so weak. She felt so stupid. And she was _angry_—at Sean, at Viktor and most of all at herself for falling for this.

When a few rats came out to sniff at the bits of gruel she gasped and then glared, woging and screeching at them till they ran. She could still woge, that was good. But when she tried to use her powers, the resounding fluctuations in the cell forced her to stop. Even full power they would hurt and right now she was still too weak. There was no way out. The only window was a cross shaped hole in the outer wall, that was well above her head.

She sobbed softly, hugging her stomach that was still sore and raging. “I just want my baby…. I just want my baby…I just want my baby,” she repeated softly.

She tensed when she heard something sliding along the wall and looked up in confusion. On the far wall, a pinhole of light suddenly appeared, and she managed to shakily get to her feet. She had nowhere to run but she didn’t want to be caught on her ass. “Who's there?” A deep, amused chuckle came from the other side of the wall and she gasped. Swallowing, she moved slowly forward. “Who are you?” He chuckled again and she frowned, not liking being the butt of a joke but also desperate for any kind of help. “I know you're there…Please talk to me.” There was now answer and she tried to see if anything was moving through the hole the size of her thumb. “My name is Adalind.”

“My name is for me to know, and you to find out,” a man’s voice, higher and amused but with an underlying maliciousness that made her freeze. The light suddenly went out when whatever was in front of it was moved again. Adalind was left with echoes of laughter as they faded into the dark and she sank back down to her knees.

\---------------------

Sloane was finishing up breakfast when Trubel came out of her room. “Hey, good morning. Hungry?”

“Starving…do I smell bacon?”

“Yep, and eggs and toast.”

“Bacon is the only thing I can think of right now!” she said, going over and grabbing several pieces off the plate to start munching.

Sloane looked at her quizzically. “How do you feel?”

Trubel chewed a little slower and then swallowed. “Well, my neck hurts, but I haven't slept that good in a long time.”

“Well…glad to hear that at least.”

“Yeah…If it’s okay, I was going to ride around on Juliette’s bike for a bit.”

“If you think you’re up for it, yeah,” she nodded. “Just be careful.”

“Right, I know.”

“I’m serious,” Sloane said more firmly. “We need to get you a new phone. So, no doing anything crazy till then, okay?”

Trubel sighed but nodded. “Okay, no crazy stuff. Promise,” she said. She quickly snatched the last piece of bacon before Sloane could stop her and Sloane looked after her with an incredulous but amused look as she headed for the door.

Before she could finish frying the eggs her phone buzzed and she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hey…um, it’s me. Wu,” he said slowly.

“Hey Wu…everything okay?”

“Yes…no…Look, I’m heading over to Nick’s and I’d like to talk to you both about…everything.”

Sloane blinked in surprise and then turned off the burner. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah…Cause I need to get a few things straight before I really dive into this.”

“Okay…I’ll meet you at Nick’s.”

“Great…See you there.”

They hanged up and Sloane sighed. The eggs were a wash now, so she dumped them in the trash and grabbed the toast she’d finished as she got her shoes on and headed out.

The drive to Nick’s house was quick and Wu had just knocked on Nick’s door when she pulled up.

“Sloane?” he asked, surprised.

“I asked her to come,” Wu said. “I figured talking to you both was the best way to kind of go through this…again. And some other stuff.”

Nick nodded and stepped aside for them both to come in. “Okay…so…this is about the Grimm stuff?” he asked.

“Yeah…but also…” He pulled a photo out of the folder and held it up. “Your friend, the one staying with Sloane, is a suspect in a double homicide I kind of helped with.”

Nick winced at the picture of Trubel in the drive thru with the stolen truck. He’d wondered when Wu might remember that. “I…yeah…”

“It was self-defense,” Sloane said, taking the picture with a frown.

“Again?”

“We do a lot of that,” she sighed. “Wesen don’t always like Grimms for obvious reasons.”

“Oh…so they were…”

“Yeah. But also, they tried to assault her.”

“…I’m not sure how comfortable I am with this…” Wu said slowly.

“No offense, but you’ve made it clear you’re not comfortable with most wesen things.”

“No, I mean…covering for her.”

Nick looked at him pleadingly. “Wu…I get that. And you know we normally wouldn’t ask that of you. But we can’t exactly say in court she killed them because they turned into monsters and tried to kill her first. We don’t even have proof…” Nick winced suddenly, blinking and reeling.

Wu frowned. “You…okay?”

“Yeah, just…my head really hurts all of a sudden…” he said

Sloane frowned. “Nick?”

He dropped the picture and then let out a yell of pain, almost dropping to his knees. “Nick?!” she and Wu said at the same time, quickly going to him. His eyes were bulging and his face red with pain and exertion.

“What’s happening?!” Juliette rushed out from the kitchen. 

“We don’t know, he said his head hurts and then he—” Wu started.

Nick yelled out again, doubling over. There was no faking that sound of pain—Sloane had heard similar sounds from Grimm and Wesen alike. But Nick making that sound made her blood run cold. “Nick, talk to me!” she said, firmly grabbing his shoulders.

He looked up and he was looking right at them but seemed confused. “Sloane? Juliette? Wu? Where are you?”

“We’re right in front of you, Nick! What do you mean?”

“I-I’m not in the house!” he said, looking around.

“What? Yeah, you are,” Wu said, trying not to freak out.

“No! I-can hear you but I can’t see you!”

“Nick, what do you see?” Sloane asked, hoping for a clue.

“I…r-rats! Stone…I—Aaaah!” He doubled over again at the searing pain in his head and his stomach down through his pelvis, like lightening going up and down his body. He had no idea Adalind was experiencing the same thing at that moment.

Sloane felt helpless and gripped his shirt hard. Juliette was similarly grasping at his arms, trying to anchor him and willing him to be okay. Then, finally he breathed out and slumped, panting to catch his breath. “N-Nick?” Juliette asked.

He looked up, blinking. “Juliette…”

She let go of her breath. “You’re here?”

“Yeah…yeah…” he gasped.

“C’mon,” Sloane said, putting his arm over her shoulder. Wu took his other arm and helped get him over to the couch so he could sit.

“What…was that?” Wu asked. Nick looked at him with a drained expression and Juliette hesitated. He looked at them, picking up on the atmosphere. “A Grimm thing? That?”

“It hasn’t happened before,” Nick said.

“You saw something? A place?” Sloane asked.

“Yeah. I don't know where I was…”

“What? Do you know where you are now?” Wu asked, trying not to freak out.

“Yeah…I had this blinding headache…” he said, looking pained just at the memory.

“What did you see?” Sloane asked.

“Some kind of old room…” Nick said, trying to remember.

“You're scaring me,” Juliette said, squeezing his arm.

“Yeah, me too,” Wu agreed.

Nick sighed, rubbing just above the bridge of his nose. “I'm okay.”

“Uh, you were on your knees, Nick.”

“Yeah, you couldn't see us,” Juliette agreed.

Nick looked at Sloane who sighed. “That’s not normal. And after everything that’s happened…”

“We're taking you to the hospital,” Juliette said, standing.

Nick shook his head obstinately. “No, I don't need to go.”

“Don't argue. We're going,” Wu said, pulling him to his feet. He and Sloane took up their posts at his side again to carry him out the door.

“I'm not gonna fall down!”

“You kind of just did. I got the door,” Wu said, letting him rest against Sloane more to grab it. She felt her heart lurch but ignored it. “Let me drive.”

\-----------------------

They got to the hospital and had Nick do a check up and brain scan. Juliette stayed with him while Sloane and Wu went to the waiting room.

“God, this just keeps getting better and better,” Sloane sighed, rubbing over her eyes.

“You’re not going to do something like that, are you?” Wu asked, eyeing her worriedly.

“No…” She leaned against the back of the chair. Glancing around, she noted they were alone and looked at him. “So…you want to go in depth on the Grimm issues now?”

He hesitated but nodded. “I can’t keep trying not to look. I see it everywhere…”

She nodded in understanding. “Okay…Well, first of all, you are right in that we’re trying to cover for Theresa. We’re not dirty cops or anything like that, it’s more complicated than that. There’ve been times we have to go outside of being a cop to get the killers. And there are times wesen attack us or do something else that can make us look bad. Remember when Nick and Hank got in trouble for taking down Santa Claus?”

“Yeah…wait, that was…?”

“He wasn’t our guy, but he was a wesen. He ran when he saw Nick and he pursued him thinking he might be the perp and, well…things went downhill from there. But we’ve had ones that will try and kill us on sight. That’s something Trubel has had to deal with for years…It’s how she lost her foster parents when she was a kid. But trying to explain it, she’s put away in mental institutions.” She looked at him. “If I hadn’t told you what you saw was real, you’d think you were crazy, right? You or someone else might’ve checked you into a place like that. But even there she wasn’t safe. We’re trying to teach her how to avoid being identified as a Grimm and how to stop the bad wesen, but I promise you she was not looking to kill anyone when those men attacked her. And they didn’t even know she was a Grimm at the time,” she said meaningfully.

Wu calmed as he listened, taking that in. “…Okay. I don’t like it, but I see what you mean with that. I’m not going to delete evidence, but I’ll avoid bringing it up.”

Sloane breathed out in relief. “That’s more than enough, thank you.”

“You mentioned the captain was…um…”

“He’s wesen. Well, half…it’s complicated. But he knows about us. He’s a good one. Well, at the very least, he’s good to us.”

“But what happened at Nick’s house? I mean, Trubel didn’t—”

“No no, she told the truth,” Sloane said quickly. “Renard was here to help Nick with something, and Weston ambushed him. Then Trubel took care of him when he tried to take care of her.”

“Okay, good,” he sighed. “That something though…is it related to what happened in there? Like a Grimm Migraine? Do you get migraines?”

“I’m getting one now,” she muttered. “No, that…that is not normal. He was having some kind of vision and that’s not a usual Grimm ability by any means. It’s probably related to what Adalind did to him…” she trailed off, mind going quickly.

“Adalind? Adalind Schade?” he asked, recognizing the name.

“Yeah. Look, I can go over _everything_, but the more you know the more invested your going to be like it or not. Are you ready for that?”

He hesitated still and looked frustrated with himself.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Juliette said. They looked up in surprise as she walked over. “Nick’s getting an MRI…I heard a little of what you were talking about.”

“So, you…um…” Wu started.

Juliette nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. Nick tried to keep it from me at first, but…a lot happened.”

“So, you’re dealing with it?”

She sighed deeply as she got a paper cup and fill it with water from the cooler on a nearby table. “I was a bit of the opposite to you. I threw myself into it. Trying to help as much as I could. But a lot keeps happening. To us, to our friends…I admit, sometimes I wish I didn’t know. I thought it’d get easier but…” she shrugged. “I was in the hospital because of Adalind and something she did. When I was in the hospital, all that time after I got out, I had horrible nightmares and dreams. It wasn’t real, but it was because some of it was my own memories. Do you remember the night that I fired the gun in the house?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded.

“There was some crazy stuff going on in my head.”

“Yeah, I thought Nick was gonna lose his mind because you couldn't remember him. Was that…part of it?”

“Yeah. It was a curse. Literally a curse. I’ve had one, Hank has had one…now Nick does. And all by Adalind. But it’s not the only Grimm thing that invaded my life.”

“…Uh, do you mean me or?” Sloane asked slowly.

Juliette managed a smile but shook her head. “You know what I mean. My point is…I’m not _scared _exactly, but I feel like I should’ve been in the beginning. That I should’ve been more cautious and realized what was on the line for a lot of this. So, I don’t blame you for being scared.”

“…But I don’t want to be afraid,” Wu said. “Nick, Hank, all of you are my friends and coworkers. And you’re all going through this and I’m just…Stuck here in the same place because I’m scared to go through the door!”

“Door?”

“It’s a metaphor,” Sloane said.

“Ah. Well, um…I mean, fear is good. It keeps us alive. But it shouldn’t keep you standing in place…I mean, I wasn’t unafraid when I found out. I thought I was going crazy and it was super scary when I was remembering all the stuff I forgot. And I’ve been scared when we’re in danger. But I realized it didn't really matter. I had to lose my fear of it because…What might happen if I didn’t take action scared me more.” She looked down at the water in her hands, thinking over that. Tapping her fingers on the glass she finally roused herself and smiled. “We know you’re our friend, Wu. Just do what you feel you have to do. Even if it’s what you have to do for yourself.” She blushed as if realizing she might be going to far and laughed. “Um, but…I’m gonna go wait for Nick.” She turned and walked off.

“Is…Juliette okay?”

Sloane sighed and looked at her watch. “You eat anything today?”

“Uh…a bagel?”

“Hungry? I think it’ll be easier to explain this somewhere private like the car and we can give them some space…”

Wu nodded and stood. “Okay. Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is where things really start being DIFFERENT from the canon. I'm sad to say, if you haven't guessed, Adalind will not be pregnant this time around. The poison used included Witchweed, Chinaberry and Juniper, which have been used as anti-implantation drugs in past cultures (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME THESE ARE POISONOUS). Basically, though not intentionally, it worked like plan B and there will be no fertilized egg implanting itself so no baby (I do a lot with women's health so I explain this often). I thought long and hard about this and I'm real sorry to Kelly, but Nick and Adalind having a kid doesn't fit with what I want to do here. Considered just not bringing it up, but didn't want any confusion and Sloane's involvement kind of made it happen in this universe sooo... Part of this is I have mixed feelings on Nick and Adalind and their development with the baby--they had super cute moments and development but how Kelly was conceived kind of didn't sit well with me (and admittedly I used it for Sloane's reaction). I also want to explore how Adalind might change for the better (not an intentional Wicked reference) that doesn't revolve around a baby and Nick and just...figuring out things for herself as relating to herself. Juliette/Eve too I look forward to writing! Trubel's already a little different maybe with a stronger female Grimm influence.
> 
> Obviously this is going to mean there will be a lot more changes from here on out! There will still be rewrites, but they may start veering a lot more, and some more originals that are going to move things along and keep developing what I have in mind on how the Grimms work.
> 
> On a lighter note, I did want to give Monroe and Rosalee and the others a bit more time to enjoy their wedding (I didn't forget why the glasses were meant for such a big reveal when I wrote the eyedrops in, what, psh!). Figured with what's coming up, they could use some good times...


End file.
